


Fire And Ice

by TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Archery, Betrayal, Comments Are Welcome - Am Beginning To Think Folk Think This Is Shit, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gandalf - Freeform, Getting Really Ratty Trying To Negotiate Italics, Horses, Legolas - Freeform, Love, Lust, Making Things Up As I Go Along Because I Can, Oral Sex, Orc Attack, Sex, Swordfighting, Troll attack, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 48
Words: 156,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: Ava is a fiery-spirited elf, kidnapped and taken away from all that she knows by King Thranduil. Held against her will, she battles against him at every turn, desperate to return to her former life. Unknown to her, she was born with a gift that has the power to save or destroy the world, and he is trying to protect her. Thranduil finds his ice melting from the heat of her fire, and pushes hard against the all-consuming passion that rages through him in his efforts to keep her safe.Will they remain enemies throughout the realms of time, or will they give in and fight against evil united as one?





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

 

Ava strained her back muscles, lifting the heavy load onto the back of her horse. The sun beat down through the clearing, the heat almost unbearable.   
The horse shifted his stance as he adjusted to the added weight, restlessly moving his hooves.  
“Are you alright, boy?” she asked softly, rubbing the magnificent animal’s long neck. A soft snort came in response, making her smile.  
The sound of footsteps on the leaves made her turn.  
“Almost ready?” her uncle asked.  
She smiled. “Yes. I don’t think we should be too long now. Everything we need is almost loaded onto the horses.”  
The older man nodded. “It is a treacherous journey ahead, Ava,” he told her.  
Her smile faded slightly and she nodded, casting her eyes downwards. “Yes. But if we are to survive the winter, we must do this. There is no other way.”  
“Keep your wits around you at all times,” he advised, lifting a hand to stroke the horse’s side. “Do not let your attention stray, not even for one second.”  
“I shall be careful,” she promised. “We should be back by the new moon if luck is on our side.”  
“May luck be with you, child,” he said, bowing his head and stepping back.  
She swung herself up onto her horse, her long, jet-black hair swishing over her shoulder as she settled herself into a comfortable position astride the animal. Offering her uncle a smile and a wave, she tugged on the reins, slowly leading her people away from the clearing and deeper into the forest.  
Her uncle stood where she had left him, watching as three other riders accompanied her, falling in step behind her on their mounts. Each horse was laden up with farm produce.  
He folded his hands inside his cloak, watching the group disappear from view as the forest closed in around them.

*****  
“Zelpher, your singing voice does not improve with the passing seasons,” Ava laughed. “My ears hurt!”  
Elmar snorted in hilarity behind her. “This is true. I think age is making his voice weak, and too many years consuming too much wine.”  
Alluin joined in the laughter.  
“I can still sing!” Zelpher roared from the back.  
“You are mistaken; you could never sing!” Alluin called back over his shoulder.  
Ava shook her head and smiled to herself as she led the way through the dense woods. Cedar trees surrounded them, providing almost solid walls in every direction. Her keen eye and woodlands experience guided her through the dense foliage, boughs sweeping against the travellers as they passed through. Her horse had her trust, and she had his.   
The gloominess intensified as they pushed forwards. The disappearance of the sun signalled nightfall was near, and she wanted to be camped down somewhere safe soon. The breeze drifted around her, making her shiver as it came in colder bursts.  
She pulled her horse to a halt, signalling to her companions. “Did you hear that noise?”  
“What noise?” Elmar asked.  
“The only noise I can hear is the infernal noise coming from Zelpher,” Alluin responded dryly.   
She glanced around, the horse beneath her shifting restlessly, as though he picked up on her discomfort. “I feel danger,” she murmered. “But I see nothing.”  
“It must be your imagination,” Elmar stated. “I didn’t hear anything.”  
She unsheathed her sword, unconvinced. The metallic noise sounded far too loud in the still silence.  
Her horse reared up on his hind legs and she screamed, as the foliage and greenery parted. Eleven riders crashed out of the undergrowth, landing right in front of her and quickly surrounding the travellers.   
Her horse reared and kicked out in fear and confusion, and she gripped the reins with her left hand. The right she used to wield her sword. The newcomers circled around them in a fast pace, panicking the horses further.  
One of them seemed to focus on her, as she found herself staring deep into ice blue eyes. The rider reached for her, but she kicked her horse back a step and swung her sword. Before she knew what was happening, he had produced his own weapon, and knocked her blow aside.  
Fury radiated from her. Struggling to control her mount, she faced him once again, but every swipe of her blade was easily fended off. Her breath came in pants as she fought to hold her own ground, but he was far stronger and more skilled with a sword than she. His moves looked graceful and fluid, almost poetic. Never once did those ice blue eyes leave hers, his long, straight blond hair flowing around his back as he moved swiftly and efficiently.  
A scream tore itself from her throat as he knocked her down, and she landed heavily on the ground. The air whooshed out of her lungs as she felt herself being dragged up, her back pinned against his solid armour. His arm which seemed to be made of steel held her in place, and the trees spun around her.  
I’m being taken away, she thought in terror.   
Adrenalin kicked in and she fought back, squirming free and dropping to the ground again. The hooves of the horse her attacker rode narrowly missed her as the animal danced around. She rolled over, protecting her head with her hands, everything around her blurred in the confusion.  
A series of howls ripped through the forest, and she realised her companions were being slaughtered. Anguished cries echoed off the trees, eventually fading into silence.  
As she struggled to her feet, someone emerged behind her and grabbed her hair. She let out a blood-curdling scream as she was dragged along. The rider with the blue eyes roared something she didn’t understand, and instantly she was released, collapsing once more onto the grass.   
Voices floated over her as she lay, stunned. A tongue which she did not know. Summoning the last of her strength, she lifted her head. A loud buzzing noise sounded in her ears, and blackness swiftly closed in.  
*****

 

“She will be a problem, my Lord,” Voron stated. “I have heard many tales over the years.”  
Thranduil turned to face the elf, his icy stare holding him prisoner. “And what makes you think I cannot handle her?” he asked.   
“I mean no dishonour, my Lord. The people of the forest speak of her like she is a demon. I do not wish any harm to come to my King.”  
“And no harm will come,” Thranduil replied. “I have fought and won many battles, many wars. I did not come through without learning along the way. I am sure I can maintain a high-spirited elf.”  
Both men turned as the door opened, and Legolas enetered.  
“My son,” Thranduil greeted him.   
Legolas bowed his head, before meeting his father’s eyes. “I am concerned, Father,” he said.  
Thranduil nodded sharply to Voron, who disappeared and closed the door behind him. He turned his attention to his child. “Tell me your concern.”  
“The elf who you hold prisoner,” Legolas said. “There are tales.”  
“I am aware,” his father responded. “There are no stories to reach your ears which have not already met mine.”  
Legolas studied him, choosing his words carefully. “They say she brings trouble wherever she is. She refuses to abide by rule or law, and is beyond control.”  
The corners of Thranduil’s lips twitched. “Everyone seems so preoccupied with control,” he mused. “And yet the only one who should be concerned about control is myself. Our people amuse me.”  
“Our people are worried, Father,” his son replied.   
“Then let it be known they worry for no reason,” he replied smoothly. “Is this your only concern?”  
Legolas bowed his head, signalling he’d voiced all that had been troubling him.   
“Let cook know we have another mouth to feed,” Thranduil said. At his son’s surprised look, he continued. “I have never starved my prisoners, and I have no intention of doing so now.”  
“Yes, Father,” Legolas replied, and swiftly left the room.  
Thranduil’s eyes slanted sideways as he watched him leave, then shifted back to the front of him once the door had closed. Turning around, he crossed the room to look out of the window. The moon shone high above the forest, casting shadows which seemed to take on a life of their own. He found peace gazing out across his realm, solace that could only be found in the perfection of the kingdom he’d created.   
Thoughts of his prisoner swept into his mind, bringing his eyebrows down in a slight frown over his ice blue eyes. The rumours Legolas and Voron spoke of had reached his ears a long time ago, and at the time he had dismissed them as they were of no concern to him.  
Things were different now though. Every move she made would have to be monitored, tempered, controlled, if she was to live up to her reputation. He sincerely doubted she would – if things were to be believed, she was breathing fire daily on those who crossed her. She had displayed more courage and fight that he had expected however, when he’d captured her in the forest. Her moves while defending herself and her swordsmanship had surprised him. Even though he’d witnessed outstanding skill from female fighters over the years, he hadn’t been prepared for her lightning speed, her razor-sharp reflexes, her determination. He had no doubt in his mind that had any of his soldiers tried to take her, she’d have taken their heads clean off with a swipe of her blade. Only his skill, experience, and strength had given him the upper hand with her.  
Long, dark lashes swept down as he blinked, the image of her coming clear to him. She had long black hair, which swept her hips as she moved. The lengths were poker straight as were his, the only difference between the two of them being the colour. Her eyes were dark blue, framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Her dark eyebrows arched up slightly at the outer corners, giving her an exotic look. A plump, full mouth rested below a perfectly straight nose.   
He frowned, forcing the vision of her out of his imagination. There were many more important things which needed his attention, and he couldn’t afford to waste time allowing his mind to wander. He would deal with her when the sun rose.  
***** 

A bright ray of sunlight shone through the high window, settling on Ava’s face and waking her from a fitful sleep. She blinked against the light, trying to get her bearings.  
The events of the previous day came back to her. Setting off from her uncle’s home, being attacked and her companions being killed, ending up locked in a cold stone dungeon in hell knows where. The night had been long, sleep coming only in fits and starts and even then only for short periods of time. The stone floor was uncomfortable, and she had eventually curled against the wall in the corner. Although she had been given a meal and hadn’t been ill-treated, she couldn’t begin to work out where she was or why.  
Hauling herself more upright, she strained her ears, convinced she could hear heavy footsteps. Footsteps that pounded along as though the walker had a definite purpose.  
She jumped in fright as the dungeon door was thrown open, revealing a very tall male who seemed to emit a threatening aura.  
Her attacker.  
She unconsciously flattened her back against the stone wall behind her.  
He stepped inside the room, waving the guard away with a toss of one hand. Ice blue eyes held hers, for what seemed like an eternity.  
“I trust you had rest during the night?”  
She stayed silent.  
He smirked ever so slightly, walking towards her and coming to a halt about three feet before her. “These may seem unusual circumstances. Everything will be explained through time.”  
She lifted her chin in a slight defiant move.   
He studied her for a few moments, before turning and slowly pacing the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m sure you have many questions. We will discuss them later.”  
Her eyes tracked him as he moved. His movements were fluid and graceful, more so than she would have thought, given his height. His long blond hair flowed down his back, mesmerising her.   
“I cannot say how long you will be here,” he told her, continuing to walk. “I simply do not know.” He came to a halt, facing her.  
She lifted herself to her feet, finding she had to tilt her head to look him in the eye. Standing at five feet eight, she estimated him to be around the six-four, maybe six-five mark. “Why did you kidnap me?” she asked.  
He blinked. “I will answer your questions another time,” he replied, his voice calm and soothing.  
Truth be told, his voice unnerved Ava. It flowed over her like a mixture of silk and velvet, creeping into places she hadn’t been aware even existed. “Why did you kill my companions?” she questioned. “You owe me that, at least.” The screams of terror and agony of Alluin, Elmar, and Zelpher as they had died were burned into her memory. Life-long friends who were cruelly torn away from her in a brutal ending.  
He blinked his ice blue eyes again, taking his time as he decided what to tell her. “They betrayed you,” he said, watching her. “You were being taken to be sold.”  
“What?” Her eyebrows came down into a deep scowl. “We were going to trade goods from the farm! Nobody betrayed anyone, and no-one was being sold!”  
“I was informed otherwise,” he said.  
“Then you were informed wrong,” she hissed. “You’ve murdered three innocent people and have taken me captive – based on what? Lies and untruths?”  
One eyebrow lifted slightly. “My sources are reliable and honest,” he said. “There was a very large amount of gold promised on your safe delivery. Your companions were to make the exchange. So they had to die.” He shrugged.  
Ava reacted with lightning speed, swinging her hand round and slapping him hard across the face. A loud crack echoed around the dungeon.  
His head spun to the side, and as he turned back to her, she struggled to hold back a scream of horror. The left side of his face was disfigured, parts of his flesh burned away.  
My God, it’s true, she thought.  
Before her eyes, his face healed as she stared at him.  
Fury blazed from his blue eyes. He grabbed her by her throat and slammed her hard against the stone wall. “Strike me again and I will take your life myself,” he warned in a low growl.   
She gasped, struggling against the steel grip he had on her throat. Her hands went automatically to her neck as he released her. He stepped back, and she could see the murderous rage in his eyes.  
Without another word, he turned, and with his cloak swirling around him, strode out of the dungeon. “No-one gets in, and no-one gets out,” he barked to the guard. The door slammed as he disappeared, the lock grinding into place.  
Ava was left alone once more. She slid down the wall, landing roughly on her rear on the floor. What had she done? Slapped King Thranduil?? Full force? She’d wondered in the forest the previous day if it had been him, the long blond hair giving her the idea that it was. The rumours of his injuries from his face-off with the Dragons had been spoken of in hushed whispers for years, and what she had just seen proved to her that he was indeed Thranduil. A combination of elf magic and his strong inner will masked his injuries from prying eyes, but she had just seen his inner control slip, and that surely wouldn’t bode well for her. If rumour was to be believed, he seldom allowed anyone to see what lay under his perfect skin. To reveal his injury through anger could only mean serious trouble lay ahead for her.   
At least she now had the answer as to where she was being held captive. Thranduil ruled Mirkwood, so it cast no doubt in her mind that she was in the palace dungeons. The downside to this knowledge was the fact that very few ever lived to see outside them.   
Her burning question was why? Why had he captured her, slaughtered her friends, and now held her as his prisoner? What intent did he have in mind for her?  
She leaned her head back against the wall, her eyes burning with tears of both fear and frustration. The stakes were high on the side of her not being alive at the end of whatever he had planned, and thoughts of her uncle drifted into her mind. He would be beside himself with worry, wondering why she hadn’t made it to the trade with the farm goods, and where she was now. The older man had raised her since infancy, and had been her mentor throughout her entire memory. He had taught her how to defend herself with swords, bows and arrows, and sheer wit and cunning. He had taught her survival.  
And she’d be damned if she was going to let him down now. Faced with the odds of an impending death, she had nothing to lose, save her honour and that of her uncle.  
*****

 

Thunder boomed out across the kingdom.  
Thranduil gazed out into the darkness, feeling strangely unnerved by the disturbance. His usual inner calm had been replaced by an uneasy feeling, a feeling of foreboding and trepidation taking over. The warrior in him had fallen back, to be replaced by curiosity and hunger.   
Curiosity concerning the elf he kept captive.  
Hunger to possess her.  
He ran a fingertip along the handle of the sword at his side. The cool steel reassured him, albeit momentarily. Ava was too dangerous to have around. Dangerous for herself, dangerous for his people, dangerous for him. He could easily hand her over to those who were willing to pay copious amounts of gold for her, and have her gone from his realm and his mind. But in doing that, he knew he risked everything in his power being destroyed. His lands, his people, the future which lay before him and everyone around him.   
He lifted his gaze from the sword, back to the darkness which surrounded the palace.  
Another option crept into his mind. If he ended her life, the threat of danger would be abolished with her. His eyebrows came down in a frown. Could he take one elvish life to secure the lives of the others? Could he avert the prophecy that had been whispered for thousands of years?   
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and slowly. The thunder continued to roll across the black skies.  
Suddenly, his eyes flew open.  
Something was wrong. Very wrong.  
Turning from the window, long strides took him from his private room. He marched along the corridors, the high walls of cold stone covered in eerie shadows cast by flickering candles. The apprehension that flowed in his blood grew in strength, and he quickened his stride. Every sense was on full alert, the feeling of terror washing over him like a heavy rainfall.   
“My Lord?” a guard questioned, as he hurried past.  
“Send Legolas to the dungeons!” he said over his shoulder. His brisk walk turned to a run.  
The guard disappeared immediately.  
Thranduil turned the corner and jumped down the stone steps leading underground, landing heavily on both feet. His right hand was already curled around the handle of his sword, and he was certain he would have to use it. His cloak swirled around him as he moved, intent on his destination and his purpose.  
The stone walls changed direction, and at the end of the dimly-lit passage the dungeon door lay open.  
His blood turned to ice and his heart stopped.  
*****

 

Ava screamed and kicked, struggling against the rope which bound her wrists.  
“No-one will hear you down here,” the guard hissed, striking her across her right cheek with a closed fist.   
She cried out in pain, lights bursting behind her eyes in bright starbursts. The guard dragged her arms up, catching the rope around a rusty hook embedded in the wall behind her above her head. Reflexively, she brought her head forward at speed, catching him on the bridge of his nose with a sickening crack.  
“You’re going to die, bitch!” he growled, pulling her head back by her hair. “Nobody strikes the King and lives to talk about it, not even with a body like yours.”  
A cry tore itself from her throat as he tore the fabric of her tunic apart, exposing her cleavage and the light blue strappy top she wore. “No!” she screamed, wriggling for all she was worth. The rope held fast.  
He crushed her against the wall, grabbing handfuls of her skirts up and forcing his way in between her legs.  
Tears of pain and horror streamed down her cheeks. This was not how she had intended to die, whatever turn events had taken.   
She gasped, as through her tears and her panic, she saw Thranduil running towards the dungeon. His long hair cascaded around him, his cloak flowing behind him, his sword being drawn as he entered the room.  
The guard heard his entry, and threw himself away from her, jumping to stand to her left between her and his King.  
Without a solitary word, and without taking his blue eyes off her, Thranduil swiped his blade in a single movement and took his head clean off. His chest heaved as he stared at Ava, the look in his eyes making her fear even more for her life.  
He slowly turned his head and eyed the body on the floor, blood pumping at speed from the decapitated corpse.   
Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, but silently. She dare not risk the wrath of the King any further.  
He turned his head again to look at her, his stare making her hold her breath. Taking a few steps closer, he stopped so close in front of her that she could feel the heat emitting from his body. She could see the flecks of ice in those blue eyes as they stared into hers. Her heart beat faster in apprehension.  
Lifting his eyes to her hands above her, he reached up with his left hand and took hold of her wrists, turning his blade with his right so the sharp edge was facing upwards, and sliced up through the rope.   
Her arms dropped to her sides, and she trembled. Dragging a deep breath into her lungs, she placed her hands on the wall behind her, trying to stop herself from shaking.  
He re-sheathed his sword, not taking his eyes from her. Blood trickled from a cut under her right eye, and from her bottom lip. A bruise had started to form across her cheek. The rope had burned into the soft skin of her wrists where she had struggled against them in a vain effort to free herself. Bruises in the shape of finger marks were clear from where he’d grabbed her by the throat that morning.  
Taking his cloak from his shoulders, he wrapped it around her and lifted her into his arms as though she weighed nothing.   
Legolas ran into the dungeon, out of breath. “Father! What happened?” he asked, his eyes taking in the destruction. The guard who lay lifeless on the floor minus his head, the anger in his father’s eyes, the elf in his arms.  
“See to it that the guards remove that,” he commanded, stepping past his son.   
“Of course,” Legolas murmered, wondering what had happened and why. He watched as his father swept along the passageway, carrying the elf with the same tenderness and gentle touch that an infant child would be carried with.  
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, one eyebrow arched slightly in amusement.  
This was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

 

Thranduil crossed what seemed like miles of passageways, his arms cradling Ava against his chest.   
She was vaguely aware of passing various guards here and there, of candles every so often along the way. She was more acutely aware of the strength in the arms that held her, and the determination of the hold on her. Swallowing, she closed her eyes wearily and allowed herself to relax momentarily against him.  
He felt the change in her, felt the tension and fear leave her body. Saying nothing, he continued towards his private room.  
“See that no-one disturbs me,” he commanded as they passed the last guard.  
“Yes, my King,” the guard replied with a bow of his head.  
Thranduil nudged the door open with his knee and kicked it closed behind him with his heel. Crossing the massive room, he placed her on a comfortable couch which faced a roaring fire.  
She eyed him, wondering what he had in mind for her. He may have saved her life, but she didn’t trust him, or his intentions. Her eyes followed him as he moved around the room, watching as he tore strips of fabric and proceeded to soak them in a bowl. She tugged his cloak tighter around her body, the cold biting into her bones.  
“You are cold,” he observed, without looking at her. His eyes remained on his task.  
“A little,” she replied, after hesitating.  
“The fire will warm you,” he told her, after a few moments. “You feel the cold more when you are tired or afraid.”  
Blue eyes met hers, and she looked away.  
Her heart thudding in her chest annoyed her, her body betraying her mind as to how he affected her.   
He lifted the small bowl and carried it over, sitting next to her on the couch. His face remained expressionless as he lifted one of her hands from the folds of the cloak, turning her wrist to examine her wound.   
Her flesh burned from the contact.  
He lifted a piece of cloth from the bowl, squeezing excess water from it. With slow, unhurried movements, he wiped across the inside of her wrist, so lightly that she wondered if she imagined his touch. Turning her arm so that her forearm faced him, he continued around the circular mark.  
She studied him as he worked. Thick, dark eyebrows that tilted up at the outer corners framed eyes that only made her think of blue ice. He had cheekbones to die for, a long, straight nose, and a full, plump mouth. His skin was absolutely flawless. Straight blond hair fell down his back and over his shoulders, some tucked behind his ears and some hanging down in front. His shoulders were broad, his hands large with long fingers.   
She swallowed, looking at the floor.  
“Your wounds will be gone by sunrise,” he said, breaking her line of thought. He wrapped a strip of cloth from the bowl around her wrist, tying it firmly but not tightly, and began tending to her other arm.   
Once he had completed his task, he took a fresh piece of cloth, again squeezing the water from it. Leaning closer to her, he gently wiped the blood from under her eye, then from her lower lip.  
She inhaled through her nose, feeling disturbed at his closeness.   
He stood finally, taking the bowl back to where it had been before, placing it on a rock ledge. “You may rest here for the night,” he said, turning back to her. Ice blue eyes stared into dark blue ones. “You will come to no further harm under my protection.”  
A few heartbeats passed, with Ava unsure of what to say.  
He lifted the lid of a large ornate wooden box, carved along the sides with intricate forest designs. “This might be more comfortable for you to sleep in,” he said, lifting a tunic from inside. It was cream colour with grey and purple designs along the bottom. “I will have fresh clothing for you in the morning.”  
Placing the garment next to her on the couch, his eyes met hers briefly before he turned and headed for the door.  
“Wait,” she said.  
He stopped, and took a few seconds to face her.  
“Thankyou.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.  
He bowed his head in acceptance, the slightest smirk visible. “You are welcome.”  
With that, he turned and left the room.  
*****

 

Legolas leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. “I will do everything that I can,” he said to his father. “And I know I do not speak only for myself.”  
Thranduil sat back on his throne, one knee casually resting over the other. His son sat on the stone steps to his right.  
Voron nodded. “I too will do all I can, my King,” he spoke. “And my company will follow.”  
“Good,” Thranduil responded. “She is to be protected at all costs. No harm must come her way.”  
Legolas gave a single nod. “She is safe.”  
“I am tasking you with honing her archery skills,” Thranduil said, turning his attention to his son. “I trust you can undertake this?”  
“Of course,” Legolas replied. “She is already an accomplished archer, what do you wish me to teach her?”  
“Everything,” came the response. “Voron, you will make sure she is protected at all times, unless she is with myself, or my son. At all other times, she must be accompanied by those who are competent to ensure her safety.”  
“My Lord,” Voron acknowledged, with a forward tilt of his head.   
“You may leave us,” Thranduil told him. “Arrange for collection of her clothing from the seamstress.”  
The loyal guard bowed and disappeared.  
Legolas turned back to his father. “Is Ava aware of what we know?” he asked.  
Thranduil inhaled through his nose, and shook his head. “No. It would not be wise for her to know. The less knowledge she has of the matter, the safer she might be.”  
“It’s only a matter of time before she is hunted down,” Legolas said.   
“And we will be prepared,” the older man responded. “While you are undertaking her archery, I will guide her swordsmanship. She is good, but she has a lot to learn. She must be able to protect herself for the future.”  
“You don’t intend to keep her here?”  
The elf King raised one eyebrow. “I do not possess the power that she possesses,” he answered. “I have my own powers. That one however, I do not.”  
“Tell me, Father – what happened in the dungeon last night? What happened to make you slaughter one of your longest-serving guards?”   
Thranduil’s nostrils flared as he recalled the previous night. “He tried to take her by force,” he replied, his voice deceitfully calm. “I will not allow that from any man in this realm. It is neither our way, nor our practice.”  
Legolas shook his head briefly, closing his eyes in disgust. He opened them again as a thought flashed through his head. “How did you happen to be there?”  
Thranduil glared at him. “I knew.”  
The cogs in Legolas’s mind churned, and he mentally started clicking pieces together.  
“Have her brought to me,” his father said, turning to look out of the window. “Ensure she has been fed, then bring her to me.”  
“I will,” he answered, rising to his feet. With a bow, he left the room.  
Thranduil kept his gaze focused outside the window.  
*****

 

Ava walked in silence beside the blond elf who had been sent to accompany her. She nervously ran her hands down her clothing, which had been laid out for her while she had slept. She remembered falling asleep on the couch, still wrapped in the King’s cloak, but had awoken curled up in the large, soft bed which had dominated the room. Her head had rested on soft feather pillows, with warm blankets tucked around her shoulders.  
Upon waking, she had got out of bed and discovered a large sunken area in the rock floor filled with water, which to her surprise, had been warm. Finding lotions spread out on the rocky ledge, she had freshened up and washed her hair. Towels had been left below the lotions.  
To her surprise, the clothing which had been left for her fitted perfectly. The fabric was soft and felt like heaven against her skin. She had been left a sleeveless, snug-fitting tunic which fell to her upper thighs. Snug-fitting pants covered her legs, and she felt more in touch with herself after the last two days.  
“My father awaits you,” her companion said with a smile, as he opened the large door they had reached.  
She stepped into a huge hall, and the door closed behind her. Lifting her eyes, the roof of the hall seemed to stretch up into the heavens. Large stone pillars supported it, with vines and leaves twisting their way up each one. Dropping her gaze, she spotted Thranduil sitting away at the far end on a majestic throne.  
As she made her way towards him, he rose to his feet, and slowly descended the stone steps.  
“You slept well?” he asked, as she neared him.  
“Yes,” she replied.  
“Good,” he said, pouring some wine. He handed a goblet to her, and took one for himself, noting that as he had said, the wounds on her wrists had completely healed. “We have much to discuss. I promised to answer your questions, and I will do so. Sit.” He motioned to the steps.  
She obliged, sitting with her legs bent at the knees so the soles of her feet faced behind her. He sat down on a chair at the immense wooden table, taking a sip of wine as he watched her.  
He reminded her of a predator.  
“Why am I here?” she asked, after a long silence.   
“You are very valuable to others,” he replied. “You possess a power of which you are not even aware. This power would be priceless to the wrong breed.”  
“What power?” she asked with a frown. “I don’t possess any power, other than those gifted to my people.”  
“That is for you to discover and to refine,” he said.   
Her frown remained. “Why did my friends have to die?”  
He heard a slight catch in her voice. “They betrayed you on an unforgivable level. Once that betrayal had been decided, there could be and would be no turning back. There was no other choice than for them to die.”  
She shook her head, dropping her gaze as her eyes burned. “They were my friends,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve known them all my life. We’ve been through battles at each others’ sides, helped one another, supported one another. They would not betray me.”  
“Untrue,” he stated, making her lift her head sharply. “They fought at your side in battle because it suited them. They were united in a greater purpose. They did not do it through loyalty or friendship. There is no such thing as friendship.”  
His coolly-spoken words stabbed at her heart. “I do not believe this,” she said. “You have people who would fight to their deaths at your side. Do you think you are the only one, because you are a King?” Anger and hurt penetrated her words.  
He lifted one eyebrow. “My people do as I command because I am their King,” he said, a touch of temper evident in his cold eyes. “They do not do it out of friendship. They do it because if they were to betray me, I would end their lives. There is a difference.”  
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “You really think that is the way to live? People doing your bidding through fear? Would it not be better to have them do it for you through respect? Through loyalty?”  
He slammed his wine onto the table. “My people do respect me!” he said, his voice hard. “They have been born into the life of respecting and obeying their King. That is their destiny.”  
She shook her head, wondering where the more gentle ruler from the previous night had gone. “It is not the right way.”  
“Who are you to tell me how to rule my kingdom?” he hissed, leaning forwards.   
“You tell me,” she retorted, refusing to look away from his eyes. “You brought me here.”  
He contemplated her words as he sat back, seeming to relax a little. “You have a lot to learn. I have no doubt you will learn fast.”  
She frowned again. “Learn what?”  
A smirk appeared. “Your destiny.”  
She sipped her wine. “And that is not going to be doing your bidding through fear,” she said.  
He broke into a hearty laugh, catching her by surprise. The unexpected sound of his laughter sent electricity through her body. “You really do have an Emel –o naur.”  
“I do not speak Sindarin,” she said.  
“It means ‘heart of fire’,” he told her. “I have long heard this. Now I know it to be true. No-one would answer me in such ways.”  
She watched him, the distrust clear in the depths of her eyes. “And where will I learn my destiny?”  
“Here,” he said simply. “Legolas will sharpen your skills with the bow and arrow.”  
“I am efficient,” she pointed out.  
“Yes, but you still have a lot to master,” he replied. “There is great fire in you, and you must learn to control that to construct rather than destroy. You must learn when to use it for destructive purposes. And striking me in the dungeon was not one of those purposes.”  
She lowered her gaze, embarrassed. “I apologise for that,” she said.  
He waved a hand dismissively. “It is not important.”  
“It was important enough for you to threaten my life.”  
Blue eyes stared into hers, and she felt as if he could see into her soul. “If I had planned to take your life, I would have done so by now,” he said calmly.   
She licked the wine from her lips, unnerved by his penetrating eyes. “I’m indebted to you for what you did for me last night,” she said.  
His eyes tracked the movement of her tongue. “What my guard was attempting was wrong,” he said, shifting uncomfortably as he felt the blood rush to his groin. “I do not condone violence against females, ever.”  
She nodded in gratitude and acknowledgement. “Thankyou.”  
He tilted his wine towards her in a gesture of acceptance. “Like I told you, you are welcome. You are safe here.”  
“How long do you intend to keep me here?” The question burned her, as she was afraid of his answer.  
“I do not know,” he said, setting his wine to one side on the table behind him. “It depends on a lot of factors. Details which I cannot go into in more depth.” He watched as her shoulders slumped slightly. “I assure you, you will have everything you need for your comfort,” he added, leaning forwards slightly.  
The battle she fought within herself was as clear as the sunlight outside. “I need to get word to my uncle,” she said, refusing to look at him. “I must let him know I am safe. He will be worried.”  
He clenched his teeth. “I will speak to one of my messengers.” He did not feel bad about the blatant lie; no doubt he would indeed speak to one of his messengers before sundown, but certainly not about her request.  
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes once more, irritated at the awareness that shot through her. “What lies ahead for me now?”  
He uncrossed his legs and stood, walking towards her. He stopped in front of her, extending his hand. “Come. I will reacquaint you with my son.”  
Taking the hand he offered, she allowed his strength to pull her to her feet, where he let go of her and proceeded to lead her towards the door of the hall.

*****

Six days passed.  
“Become the arrow,” Legolas whispered. “Feel the flight.”  
Ava concentrated, the feathers of the arrow touching her ear in the faintest kiss. Blocking out everything around her except his voice and the feel of the weapon, she focused on the target.   
“You are the arrow,” he whispered. “Now fly.”  
Releasing the projectile, a smile curved her lips as it shot through the air and landed in the dead centre of the target.  
“Excellent!” Legolas cheered. “Perfect!”  
She rolled her shoulders, loosening stiff muscles. “I don’t think I could have hit that with such precision a week ago,” she admitted.  
“Practice makes perfect,” he told her, taking an arrow from his own quiver. “One last task; the sun is going down and we are losing light.” His arrow took off, splitting hers in two. “Go ahead.”  
She looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t make that shot!”  
“Trust in yourself,” he told her, lifting himself to sit up onto a fallen tree.   
She looked back at his arrow, then back at him. “There is talent, and there is sheer stupidity,” she muttered, and he laughed.  
Shaking her head, she took an arrow, lining it up in her line of vision. She took a deep breath, steadying her aim. The tip of the arrow blurred as she focused past it and instead on his intended target.   
“Bring your shoulders back a little,” he advised softly, not wanting to break her concentration.   
She complied, and relaxed a little. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her blood whooshing around in her veins. Determination flooded through her. The trees surrounding them, the smell of the flowers, the soft breeze and the darkening rays of the sun faded. The feathers on his arrow became the only thing in existence.  
Unknown to her, Thranduil sat astride his horse, watching her intently. She had vastly improved her skill in the last week, becoming more efficient in her use of the weapon. Legolas was an excellent teacher, and he had no doubt she was in the best hands to bring her talent up to top form. He found himself watching her often as she practised, taking note of her form, her determination, her drive to succeed. The warrior in her was evident, as was the softer side of her.   
She had gone to one of the villages the previous day with one of the guards. The seamstress who had made her tunic the week before had made some more garments for her, and she had gone to collect them. As usual, he had been nearby, keeping her under his watchful eye.  
She had stopped on the way back to the palace, resting on a wall as she chatted with her guard. A butterfly had flitted past, and she had held a hand out. The delicate creature had landed on her fingers, extracting a grin of delight. It flew away after a few moments, and the joy on her face had struck him like the blow she’d delivered in the dungeon. His mood had instantly soured, and he’d taken off at a gallop, unseen and undetected.   
Watching her now, he leaned forward, crossing his arms over his horse’s neck. The sun was rapidly lowering, the dying rays outlining her body as she faced her target. His eyes explored her curves, watched the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, noted the force of will etched onto her face.   
The feather tickled her ear, and she deliberately slowed her breathing right down. Her fingers tightened, but a movement caught her peripheral vision as she released the arrow. It fired forward like lightning, sailing past Legolas’s arrow.   
She sighed and dropped her shoulders in defeat, as a white rabbit turned tail and bounced away through the undergrowth.  
Thranduil sat upright on his horse, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He silently turned the animal, heading out of the forest the way he had come.  
Legolas shrugged, trying not to grin. “Maybe next time,” he said apologetically.  
She pursed her mouth, narrowing her eyes at him. “That was not fair,” she stated. “You had no rabbits. No distractions.”  
He grinned, sliding down from the tree. He had been well aware of both his father’s presence and watchful gaze. He also knew why he continued to watch her from a distance as she trained. “There is always another day, m’lady,” he grinned, and dodged aside with a laugh as she swung the bow at him.  
“Hmmmph,” she grunted, peeved at herself for allowing herself to be distracted. She followed him back through the woods. “Legolas...can I ask you something?” she asked.  
“Of course,” he said, slowing down so she could fall in step beside him.  
“Do you know if your father has managed to get word to my uncle?”  
He swallowed. Dark blue eyes held his, filled with concern. “He has not said, so I can only assume that as of yet, he has not,” he replied. “Give him time – word will reach your uncle.”  
She nodded, completely unaware of the meaning behind his words.  
Completely unaware of the catastrophe that would unfold once her whereabouts became known.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

 

Ava leaned on the lower half of the stable door, holding her hand out. A large white horse lifted its head and gazed at her, unblinkingly. She waited. The horse’s ears twitched, and it slowly crossed the stable towards her.  
A smile lit up her features as the soft, velvet nose nuzzled her hand. “Hey, gorgeous,” she murmered, her voice low. The horse rubbed its nose against her shoulder, making her laugh.  
The sound was like music to Thranduil’s ears. He stepped from the shadows, having watched the exchange unseen.  
“Her name is Belan,” he said, pronouncing it _Bell-ant_. “It means powerful gift in elvish.”  
“She is so beautiful,” she replied, stroking the horse’s neck.  
The wonder in her voice sent sparks down his spine. “You may ride her.”  
She glanced at him in surprise. “I can?”  
He nodded, lifting the reins and handing them to her. She took them as he unbolted the door. “She is very intuitive,” he told her. “She will not push you beyond your capability.”  
She led the magnificent animal out into the courtyard, turning to stand at her side. “I am not sure I can get up on her,” she murmered, more to herself. A gasp left her as he stood close behind her, placed his hands on her waist and quickly lifted her up. Swinging her leg over the horse’s back, she mentally shook herself. “Thankyou,” she said, with a genuine smile.  
He tipped his head forwards in acknowledgement and stepped back.  
She leaned down and murmered something into Belan’s ear, in such a soft, low tone, he couldn’t pick up what she said. The horse gave a gentle snort, and walked away.  
Thranduil clasped his hands behind his back, watching animal and rider. His blue eyes never left them, and he noted how comfortable she was with Belan. She rode bareback as though she had been doing it since she had been born, an accomplishment very few women in his realm achieved.  
Voron appeared and stood at his master’s side. “Ava seems to be settled,” he observed, his gaze on her.  
“Yes,” he replied. “She is learning quickly. With that knowledge, she is settled, feels safe.”  
“You allow her to ride Belan?” the guard asked.  
“I have raised Belan since she was born,” Thranduil said. “I know her every move. I know she will not put her in any danger.”  
Voron nodded. “She is your most trusted horse though my Lord, with the exception of Belroch, your own mount.”  
“Which is why I entrusted her,” he answered. “Do you question my judgement?”  
“No my Lord, I do not,” the guard replied hastily. “I am just concerned with the welfare of Belan.”  
“She is in good hands,” he said, and fell silent as he continued to watch Ava.  
She circled the horse back around, urging her into a fast canter around the outskirts of the courtyard. Belan seemed at ease with her rider.  
Thranduil found his gaze dropping to the muscles in Ava’s thighs, flexing and squeezing as she gripped the animal. A determined blink drew his eyes back up again.  
“See to it that Belroch is ready to ride,” he said suddenly, turning to Voron.  
“At once, my Lord,” he answered, and disappeared into the stable to fetch his master’s horse.  
Ava’s smile lit up her face as she came to a stop beside Thranduil. “She is a dream to ride,” she said, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement.  
“I agree,” he said. “I wondered if maybe you would like to ride out into the forest?” A huge black horse was led out of the stables as he spoke.  
Her mouth opened in surprise, but nothing came out. “Yes,” she said, after catching herself.  
He smirked, his intense gaze burning through her.  
Her breath caught in her throat, as she gazed down at him. The ice blue of his eyes held her prisoner, more than any ropes or dungeon doors could.  
“There is no need for you to accompany us,” he said suddenly, breaking her gaze and turning to Voron. “She will be safe with my protection.”  
“Of course, my King,” the guard replied, and proceeded to close the stable door.  
Thranduil swung himself up onto his horse, showing an amazing display of grace and agility as he did so. “Are you ready?”  
She nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Lead the way.”  
His eyes remained on hers as he turned his mount, only breaking away as she went out of his line of vision.  
Ava breathed deeply. Was he aware of the effect he was having on her? On her body? On her emotions? Did he have any idea how handsome he was? Deciding that nobody could look that good and not be aware of it, she urged Belan forwards, following him.  
*****

__

 

They stopped somewhere deep in the forest.  
Ava had been riding slightly beside Thranduil, a few steps back but not completely behind him, giving her plenty of opportunity to study him. He carried himself with an air of confidence, almost arrogance, and she found it strangely appealed to her. She had studied all that she could see of him, from his profile, his hair, to his legs as he guided his horse.  
All that resulted in her perusal was the need to squirm on Belan’s back.  
He drew his mount to a halt suddenly, holding his hand up.  
Belan automatically stopped alongside him, and waited patiently.  
Ava looked at him and opened her mouth to speak, but he held a finger against her lips.  
They waited in silence.  
The minutes ticked past.  
A rustling noise caught her attention. Her jaw dropped in amazement as a white stag appeared, and stood watching them. The stunning animal was pure white all over, including the antlers. It stood staring at them with dark eyes, before slowly turning and casually disappearing back into the woodlands.  
Thranduil turned to say something, but the look on her face froze him on the spot. He had never seen such wonder, such amazement, such joy. She stared at the spot where the stag had vanished, transfixed.  
“How did you know?” she asked him, turning bright eyes to meet his.  
He lifted one shoulder in a semi shrug. “Shall we rest?” He slid off his horse as he spoke, landing with a soft thud on the grass. Dropping his reins, he walked around to her side, holding his hands up. “Allow me.”  
A look of panic flitted briefly across her eyes, but not too brief to escape him. She released her hold on her reins and swung her leg over Belan’s back to face him. Large, strong hands clasped once more around her waist and eased her to the ground.  
“Thankyou,” she murmered, turning to stroke the horse.  
Anger surged through him, which he expertly masked. She still didn’t trust him.  
He walked towards a clearing in the trees, and sensed her following him. The trees parted, revealing a small waterfall with a rock pool at the base. He sat down on one of the rocks, facing the water.  
“It is very peaceful here,” she commented.  
“Peace is what I strive for throughout my entire kingdom,” he replied, sounding as though he was lost in thought. “So much war, so much bloodshed, so many lives lost in Middle Earth, it has disastrous consequences for our kind. We cannot survive unless we can have peace.”  
She didn’t answer, feeling that his statement did not need a reply. Instead, she stared out over the pool at the waterfall. The water bubbled over the rocks.  
“You need guidance to bring your power to prominence,” he said suddenly, turning to her.  
Eyes tinged with sadness met his. “I do not want this power you speak of,” she said.  
His eyebrows lifted. “But you are unaware of what it can do.”  
She shifted her gaze back to the water. “My friends died because of this ‘power’. That tells me all I need to know about it.”  
He considered his reply. “It can be used for good purpose,” he said eventually.  
“Can it be closed down?” she asked.  
His silence made her turn to look at him once more.  
“I do not know,” he answered truthfully. “I can seek council with one who knows more than I do. If that is what you wish, I shall ask. But it would be a great waste of a gift.”  
“It...given that ‘it’ even exists...has destroyed my life,” she told him. “What good has it done me?”  
_It has a King in turmoil_ , he thought to himself. “It cannot do any good for you or anyone if it is closed down,” he said. “I understand from Legolas that you are making progress with your training.”  
“Some days,” she admitted. “Other days I cannot concentrate.”  
“Is something troubling you?” he asked, genuinely curious.  
_Only you, and your presence in my heart and my mind_. “I mourn the loss of my friends. I mourn my uncle, who has no knowledge of where I am or if I am safe or not,” she said.  
He considered her words. Maybe she should be told the truth of why he had taken her captive. “Word will reach your uncle of where you are, you have my word,” he promised.  
He knew this could not be considered a lie. Her uncle would indeed find out, although not from him, and come hunting for her.  
The sadness that emitted from her made him choose not to impart with what he knew. They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts.  
“We should turn back,” he said eventually. “The forest becomes cold when night closes in.”  
She nodded in agreement, and drew herself to her feet. Following him back, she found both horses exactly where they had left them.  
Crossing over to Belan, she took the reins in her hand, and sensed rather than heard Thranduil move to stand close behind her.  
“May I?” he asked.  
She sunk her teeth into her lower lip, thankful he could not see the flush she felt heat her cheeks. “Please.”  
He lifted her up onto the horse in a graceful movement, and stepped towards his own. “My horse is named Belroch,” he told her as he mounted. “It means powerful horse. I raised he and Belan together when their mother died during their delivery.”  
She stared at him in wonder. “They are brother and sister?”  
“Yes,” he answered, turning and leading them back through the trees. “They are strongly connected, and have been known to go to each other in times of turmoil.”  
“Who fed them and looked after them?” she asked, riding alongside him.  
He turned his head and met her eyes. “I did.”  
A warm feeling spread through her. She could imagine this cold, ruthless ruler being tender and gentle with the orphaned newborns, holding them, feeding them, and nourishing them. He had a side which she doubted very few people ever had the privilege of seeing. A side which made her fall even deeper under his spell.  
He remained silent for most of the ride back to the palace, and for once, Ava did not find this uncomfortable. She sensed that maybe he too had things troubling him, things which he did not want to discuss.  
Once they arrived back at the palace, he helped her off Belan once more, handing both animals over to Voron.  
“See to it that they are fed and taken care of,” he instructed, and Voron led the horses away with a nod.  
“Does anyone ever say no to you?” she asked, curiously.  
Blue eyes clashed with hers. “No.”  
She shrugged, more to herself than him.  
“Come. We will eat,” he said, placing a hand on her lower back and guiding her across the courtyard.  
Her flesh burned at the heat from his hand passing through the cloth of her tunic.  
“Tomorrow I will guide you with a sword,” he said, as they entered the palace and made their way to the impressive dining hall. He smiled at the look of surprise she flashed up at him. “You handle yourself well, but you have more to learn.” He guided her to a seat, and once she was sat, he took the one adjacent to her.  
Three elves appeared; one carrying a platter with bread and meats, another carrying one laden with fruit, and the final one carrying a pitcher of wine.  
Thranduil watched them as they arranged them on the wooden table, saying nothing as they departed silently.  
Ava had realised it was not customary for him to express gratitude to those around him. Although he would die to protect them, they were present to serve him, and that was all. Again, that arrogance showed through, stirring electricity through her body.  
She picked up a piece of bread and split it, at his gesture to eat. “Why have you taken the task of my sword teaching?”  
A slight smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Because I am the best. I know everything to teach you.”  
She raised one eyebrow, which amused him.  
“I overpowered you with very little effort once before,” he reminded her, pouring wine from the pitcher. “I would say that speaks for itself.”  
“It means you had the upper hand, the element of surprise,” she corrected him.  
“And so would anyone with whom you faced in battle,” he said. He placed a goblet of wine before her, and lifted his eyes to hers. “The attack strategy has already been planned, and if you are on the defence with no preparation, the chances are you will lose.”  
Mesmerised by his eyes, she held his gaze, reminding herself to breathe and think coherently. “You seem to think I am going to war,” she said.  
“You may. Or you may not. That rests upon the decisions you make.”  
She sipped her wine. “I am not a true warrior,” she said.  
He tilted his head back and grinned. “Oh but you are,” he said, looking back at her. “You are just not aware of it yet.”  
Irritation competed with desire deep inside her. “I was not born to do battle,” she said.  
“We are all born to do battle,” he corrected, leaning towards her and resting his arms on the table. “At some time in our lives – and elves live for thousands of years – each and every one of us is faced with battle. If your heart is not strong, you will fail.”  
She dropped her eyes, lifting a handful of her hair over her shoulder. His eyes tracked her movement, settling on the soft flesh of her neck, now exposed as she had moved her hair.  
He swallowed, and began to eat.  
“I know that you have not told me everything,” she said after a while. “I do not understand your reasons, but as I have not been mistreated, I can only assume there must be good reason.”  
He acknowledged her words with a tilt of his head. “The truth will become clear,” he told her. “Until I am made aware of everything there is to know, it would be unwise of me to divulge further. For this I am sorry, but I need to be sure of the facts beforehand.”  
His apology came unexpected.  
His eyes met hers and she looked away.  
*****

____

 

Three weeks passed.  
Legolas continued his tuition of archery, and true to his word, Thranduil kept his word and coached Ava on her sword skills. She shone in both areas, and he acknowledged to himself that the stronger and more capable she became, the closer she was to knowing the truth behind her capture.  
The realisation that he wanted to keep her close shocked him.  
And scared him.  
He tried to pull back from her, but the more he tried, the stronger the magnetic pull seemed to be. He found himself observing her from a distance whenever she was not at his side, even when she was with his son. He trusted Legolas with his life and his soul, and he knew that his offspring detected something lurking beneath the surface, although he had neither questioned nor mentioned it.  
Those who came into contact with her warmed to her, after she had been seen at his side. His people accepted his judgement without question, and knew he would not place her in their midst if she was a dangerous person. His animals took to her like fish to water, and this puzzled him. She seemed to have a connection with each one, be it a horse, a goat, or a butterfly.  
Thranduil felt the ice around his heart melting, and it made him angry. The ice was there for a reason, and he did not want anyone or anything penetrating it. It was there for his protection, and he saw the gradual destruction of it as a weakness.  
These thoughts echoed in his head as he walked through the woodlands.  
“I am glad you sent for me,” Gandalf said, as he walked beside him.  
The sun shone through the trees, uncharacteristically warm for the season.  
“I have unanswered questions,” Thranduil replied.  
“I sense affairs of the heart,” the wizard noted.  
The King glared at him. “The power you spoke of the last time we met. Can it be shut down?”  
Gandalf stopped walking to look at him quizzically. “Why would there be a need to shut it down?” he asked. “It is a very powerful gift for the one who possesses it, and can bring harmony and peace.”  
“It can also bring war, death, and heartache,” Thranduil challenged.  
“In the wrong hands, yes. But in the hands for who it was destined for, it will bring only good.”  
Thranduil looked away.  
“You did not answer my question,” Gandalf pointed out.  
“You did not ask one,” he retorted.  
“My statement then,” the older of the two said impatiently. “Your life will change Thranduil, whether you are prepared for it or not. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.”  
“I can close my kingdom off,” he said, resuming his walking pace.  
Gandalf followed suit. “Close it off more than you already have?” he asked. “Humphhh. Nonsense.”  
Thranduil shot him a deadly look. “I protect my people.”  
“And you protect yourself, from life,” he responded. “That is no life. You are aware of this.” He lifted a bough aside as they walked.  
“It is life as it suits me,” Thranduil replied after contemplating his answer.  
Gandalf snorted. “When you meet the one with the birthmark resembling the old symbol of fire and ice, your life will change.”  
Thranduil stopped, staring at him in horror.  
“Ah,” the wizard chortled. “I see you have met the one I speak of.”  
Thranduil couldn’t breathe.  
Ava had a birthmark resembling the fire and ice symbol, on the top of her thigh. He had seen it the night he had stormed the dungeon, to find his guard tearing her clothes aside.  
“I...” he began, and trailed off.  
Gandalf smiled behind his whiskers. “Embrace change. Change can be good. You have been alone for hundreds of years. Too long.”  
Thranduil shook his head vehemently. “I have loved once.”  
“And you will again,” the reply came. “You will have no choice. She will win your heart, with or without your consent. If my guess is correct, she has already made significant progress.”  
Hatred shone from Thranduil’s eyes. “You suggested I do this,” he hissed in anger. “This was your idea, to involve me, my people!”  
“Yes,” Gandalf agreed. “Fate has a strange way of showing itself, even for Kings.”  
“I will banish her from the realm,” he said, half to himself.  
“Then there are two endings,” Gandalf said, becoming irritated at his stubbornness. “She will either die at the hands of others, or many others will die. Neither outcome is positive. Either way, the rest of her life will be filled with misery, pain and death. Is that what you want?”  
Thranduil glared at him. Any other person would have recoiled at the rage that burned in his eyes, but the wizard was not easily disturbed. “What have you done to me?” he said, his voice a low growl.  
“Opened your eyes,” he replied. “For you were too pig-headed to do it for yourself.”  
His jaw dropped. “I have loved before, so deeply that I can never go there again, ever,” he ground out.  
Gandalf ignored him and wandered away, whistling to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Ava swung her sword with all her strength, forcing Thranduil’s down and away from her. The weapon was reasonably heavy in itself, and constantly being on the move with it was straining her shoulders and her arm muscles.  
“Concentrate,” he snapped, swinging his own back up at lightning speed.  
“I am!” she retorted. Frustration coursed through her. Every move she made was being counter blocked at every turn, and her temper was beginning to show. She felt that this lesson was not going as well as her previous ones, and she also felt a yawning distance had developed between them over the last few days. Not knowing if she had said or done anything to rile him, she had pulled back also, disliking the distain she picked up from him.  
Lifting her weapon again, she struck out against his, the blades clashing together in an angry screech of steel. The breath left her in a rapid whoosh as she found herself whirled round at dizzying speed, her back crushed hard against his solid chest, his sword across her throat.  
“If we were in battle, you would be dead,” he said softly in her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. He tipped the sharpened edge of the blade against her skin, the steel biting at the flesh but not enough to cut her.  
Her heart thudded in her chest, her senses heightened. Realising in shock that she was highly aroused from sparring with him, she pushed his arm away and spun herself around to face him.  
Her eyes were furious.  
“You have no-one to blame but yourself,” he said, his velvet voice caressing her. “You are not concentrating.”  
She huffed out a breath of impatience. “I am concentrating!” she insisted. “You are insinuating that I am not even trying!”  
“Prove it,” he challenged her.  
He saw in her eyes the moment she decided to accept. As she swung her sword around, his left hand grabbed hers, halting her movement. They glared at each other for a few seconds, the sound of her panting breaths being the only noise around them.  
“Do not look at my weapon,” he instructed her. “Look at my eyes. Your enemies’ eyes will predict their next move before their sword will.”  
She continued to hold his stare, daring him to look away first, and knowing that he wouldn’t. They continued to battle, and she grudgingly admitted to herself that he was right. She was fighting much better if she didn’t glance at his sword.  
“I recommend you bathe when we get back,” he said, hours later as they rode back through the forest on the horses. “You will feel pain otherwise.”  
“I feel pain already,” she muttered.  
He snorted softly. “Then maybe you will follow my advice.”  
“Maybe one day your advice will be wrong,” she teased, a hint of laughter in her voice.  
“I think not,” he replied, glancing at her in amusement.  
“Then I shall race you back, and I shall win,” she said, and swiftly turned Belan away. She disappeared into the dense undergrowth, leaving him momentarily stunned.  
Shaking off his surprise, he urged Belrock into a gallop, thundering through the woods.  
Ava trusted Belan, and knew she would be able to find her way back, and leaning down, spoke softly into the horse’s ear. “Come on girl, let us show them,” she whispered.  
The horse picked up her pace, leaping over bushes and fallen trees that lay across their path.  
True to her word, they arrived back on the grounds first, cresting the top of the hill above the palace. Pulling Belan to a halt, she spied Thranduil galloping over the meadows towards the bridge. Unable to suppress a grin of victory, she slowly walked her mount down the slope.  
Admiration and appreciation for the male species washed over her as she watched him speed towards her, his long hair flying out along his back in the wind. The feelings turned to abrupt terror as Belroch stumbled, landing heavily on his knees and throwing Thranduil over his head. She screamed as he crashed to the ground, rolling forwards and coming to rest crouched on one knee, his head lowered.  
Kicking her heels against Belan’s flanks, she pounded down the grassy slope, desperate to reach him and make sure he was alright.  
Her heart filled with horror as before her eyes, dozens of trolls emerged from nowhere and surrounded him.  
His head lifted slightly, and he remained still for a few seconds.  
_He’s going to die, she screamed inside her head. _He’s heavily outnumbered, there is no way he can survive.__  
He reared up, pulling both swords he carried from their sheaths. Swinging his arms wide, he turned in rapid circles, slashing at the trolls who advanced on him, tightening their circle around him.  
Her heart pounded as thought it was going to burst out of her chest, as she jumped from Belan’s back and sprinted towards him, darting in through a break in the circle. Diving under his swinging blows, she pressed her back tightly against his, drawing her own swords.  
“This is no place for you,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Leave!”  
“No,” she replied, swinging her blades.  
“Do not go against me!” he yelled in anger.  
“You can throw me back in the dungeon when this is over,” she shot back, ducking a swipe from a troll’s sword. She lifted both her weapons and sliced in opposite directions, one across his abdomen and one across his throat. Blood sprayed in all directions.  
She kept her back glued to Thranduil’s, moving as one with him, leaving no room for an attack to his back. Swords clashed, blood rained down, as one by one the trolls fell in death. Still the two battled on, synchronising their movements with each other, holding a strong defence against their enemy. They moved perfectly together, almost as though they were joined as one being, both in step and time with each other.  
Ava felt as though her arms were being wrenched from her body, pain slicing through her at every move. Still she fought hard, determined neither she nor Thranduil were going to lose their lives. The trolls possessed colossal amounts of strength, and she felt hers slipping away. The reassuring heat of him pressed against her back gave her a boost, without which she was sure she would have collapsed.  
They were down to four trolls, the rest scattered lifelessly on the ground around them. Thranduil fought harder, swung his swords faster, his reach seeming to go further. He could feel Ava was tiring fast, and knew she would not be able to hold out for much longer. Cutting down two of the trolls, he turned pressing the front of his body against her back, swiping both blades above her head. The final two beasts slumped down in an ever-growing pool of blood.  
Ava cried out in agony, falling to her knees. Her fists grabbed handfuls of grass, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. The air burned her lungs, and pain shot through her entire body.  
She eventually lifted her head and looked at the carnage around her. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “This is what you trained me for,” she whispered.  
When nothing met her ears except silence, she opened her eyes and lifted them to meet Thranduil’s. Ice cold blue eyes stared down at her, a cold hardness etched onto his face.  
“Father!”  
He turned to see Legolas, Voron, and a few other elves running full pelt across the meadows towards them.  
“Father, what happened?” Legolas shouted, scanning the scene of destruction around them. He came to a halt in front of his parent. “One of the guards raised the alarm, summoned us to help. Where did these trolls come from?”  
“I have no idea,” Thranduil answered coolly. He gestured behind him with one hand, towards Ava who was still kneeling on the grass. “Ensure she is returned and that she is unharmed.”  
Legolas nodded, crouching down beside her. “Are you able to walk?” he asked, his tone gentle.  
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart was breaking inside.  
He carefully helped her to her feet, guiding her past his father, who had turned his back and was conversing with Voron and the elves. Judging by the blood splattered over her, and the fact that Thranduil was rigid with anger, he reached the conclusion that she had been ordered to step back and had refused.  
He understood both why the King had ordered her away, and why she had stayed against his wishes. Thranduil had gestured towards her like she was dirt, and Legolas knew he erected the invisible shield around himself even more when he felt vulnerable.  
Ava made him feel vulnerable. He knew only too well that his father watched her every move from a distance, he could feel his presence. He had also seen the looks she had cast in Thranduil’s direction when he was turned away from her. Looks that nobody was ever meant to see.  
“My father will calm down in time,” he said, his hand under her elbow to support her as they made their way through the gates to the palace. “He is angry that he was ambushed and caught unprepared. He places a lot of emphasis on preparation for battle.”  
“He is angry because he told me to leave, and I did not,” she answered, glancing at him as they were ushered inside. What had seemed like cold, uninviting stone walls in the past, now surrounded her in a safe, comforting presence.  
Legolas smiled. “He is very strong willed, Ava. He will come around.”  
She doubted it.  
After having one of the elf nurses check her over, he left her resting on her bed and went in search of Thranduil.  
*****

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__

____

 

“No troll should have been within a hundred miles without my knowledge!” the King shouted. “I will not tolerate incompetence!” He smashed both closed fists down onto the table, hard.  
Those seated around the table shied back against the back of their chairs.  
“No-one, and I repeat, no-one had any idea we were under attack,” he thundered. “This is not something I will forget soon.”  
The heavy wooden door slammed loudly behind him as he stormed out of the meeting with his council. Anger flowed through his veins as he marched through the palace, one destination in mind. Reaching the room which he had allocated to Ava, he dismissed the guard posted outside and threw open the door.  
Ava jumped in fright. She had been close to falling asleep, and he now stood in the doorway simmering with rage.  
“You do not defy my orders!” he shouted, stepping into the room and slamming the door closed. “I told you to leave! Why did you not?”  
She pushed herself into a sitting position, struggling to get her bearings.  
He stood at the side of the bed, hands on his hips, glaring down at her.  
She mentally flinched away at the hatred in his eyes, but refused to show it. “I would not leave anyone outnumbered,” she said.  
His nostrils flared. “I gave you specific orders,” he growled menacingly, swooping down so he was inches away from her. “No person who goes against the King’s orders goes unpunished.”  
She snapped fully awake. So did her temper. “Then punish me!” she shouted, sliding off the bed and standing next to him. The height difference between them when stood was not as bad as when she had been seated. “You saved my life, remember? I was not going to turn away when yours was in danger!”  
“I told you to leave,” he said, his voice cold and emotionless. “You do not possess the skill needed against them today.”  
Her temper rose to boiling point. “I think I did alright out there,” she informed him, her tone matching his. “You were getting your ass handed to you.”  
He flinched back in surprise at her choice of words. “You do not dare speak to me like that,” he shouted at her. “If anyone spoke to me-“  
“Yes, yes, yes, you would throw them in the dungeon or kill them,” she spat, furious. “Go on then, do it. Do it!”  
He kept his furious gaze on her, saying nothing.  
“I don’t think you can,” she challenged. Furious blue fire clashed with hard blue ice.  
“I think maybe there is no more I can teach you,” he said eventually. The cold, hard voice was back, loaded with sarcastic venom. “Maybe you have learned all you can.”  
“Maybe,” she tossed back.  
He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, the door slamming closed again.  
She sunk back down onto the bed, shaking. She had seen him angry, she had been at the receiving end of his anger, but this was different. He had stared at her as though he truly hated her, and for that moment in time, she believed he did. The caring leader who had rescued her, tended to her wounds and taken care of her, the tender man who had lovingly raised two orphaned foals from birth, and the patient master who had guided her with her sword training had vanished, leaving the ruthless, cold-hearted King in his place.  
Pain radiated through her chest, and not only from over-exertion of her body. Her heart continued to break, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Thranduil had shown her kindness as he had warmed to her, but had quickly withdrawn it when she had gone against him.  
Feeling like her world was coming to an end, she curled up with her arms around her knees, hoping for sleep to welcome her.  
*****

 

Ava awoke to pitch darkness. And silence.  
Everything felt different, and she was unsettled. Thranduil’s words came back to her, as loud and clear in her mind as though he had just spoken them. A shiver coursed down her back.  
Deciding there was nothing she could do to change the course of things, she got up from the bed and left the room in search of something to drink. Wandering along the passageways, she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold. The cloak that Thranduil had wrapped around her the night he had carried her from the dungeon still lay in the room she used, and she wished she had lifted it on the way. Her bare feet padded silently on the stone floor as she made her way through to the large hall where she had shared meals with him, knowing there would be water there.  
The door creaked as she pushed it open, dim candlelight meeting her as she went inside. She crept over to the table, lifted the pitcher and poured some water into a cup. It tasted fresh as she gulped it down, and she refilled it.  
Turning to leave, a soft voice stopped her in her tracks.  
“I was wrong.”  
She turned slowly, and saw Thranduil sitting on the bottom step leading up to his throne. He looked lost, alone.  
Very slowly, he lifted his head, and his eyes met hers in the semi-darkness.  
“I could not turn away,” she whispered. “I am sorry for going against your orders, but I could not do it.”  
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose. “I will not forget the chance you took with your own life today,” he said, opening them again.  
“It was a choice I would make again,” she replied, and sensing that he needed to be alone, she turned to leave.  
“Ava.” His voice stopped her again. It was the first time he had called her by name. “Thankyou.”  
She looked round at him, her heart aching at the sight of him. “You are welcome.”  
He tipped his head forward in acknowledgement. “Sleep well, _Nin mel.”_  
She gave a slight nod, then left the hall, leaving him alone.  
*****

__

 

She neither saw nor heard anything from him over the next few days. His absence left a gaping hole within her, and she grudgingly admitted to herself that she sorely missed him. She missed his guidance, his teaching, even his arrogance. She missed his presence, missed knowing he was around somewhere. For some reason she always felt warm, possibly unconsciously aware that he would protect her, but lately all she had felt was cold. Not cold through the changing season, but an inner cold. A deep-seated chill that gradually took over her entire mind and body.  
Thranduil faced his own inner demons. Upon hearing that Bard and his people were short of supplies after a bad harvest, he had decided to take supplies to him. The two had fought side by side together against the orcs and the trolls when Thorin had reclaimed the mountain, and neither had forgotten each other.  
An army of soldiers accompanied him as he made the journey through the hills and over the mountains. Bard had welcomed him warmly, as had his people.  
“So...what troubles you?” he asked, studying the King as he handed him a goblet of wine.  
Thranduil lifted his head and met his gaze. “Why should I be troubled?”  
Bard grinned, sipping his wine. “We have come through unspeakable horrors, witnessed many deaths, seen life-changing events unfold before us,” he said. “I know when you are troubled.”  
Thranduil scoffed. “Nonsense. I do not wish for your people to go hungry over the winter.”  
“And your generosity, as always, is much appreciated, and we are in debt to you,” the other man acknowledged. “But there is more.”  
The King remained silent, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the inside of the tent.  
“Have you sought council with Gandalf?”  
“Yes,” he admitted, after a pause.  
“And he could shed no light on your troubles?”  
Thranduil drew him a sideways look, which clearly conveyed _are you insane?_  
Bard swirled the wine in his cup around in circles, before lifting his eyes. “Fire and ice,” he said quietly.  
“What?” Thranduil snapped.  
“You heard,” he said. “The prophecy is unfolding. I did wonder if it would happen in my lifetime.”  
Thranduil pressed his lips together in annoyance, looking away. “What do you know?” he asked eventually.  
Bard raised his eyebrows briefly. “The fire will melt the ice,” he answered.  
Thranduil visibly swallowed, still looking anywhere but at his companion.  
“But as the ice melts back to water, do not let it extinguish the flame of the fire,” Bard advised softly. “The life will die if the fire dies. Both need each other to exist.”  
The King slowly turned his head, fixing him with a penetrating stare. The other man did not flinch.  
“I will return to the palace at sunrise,” Thranduil said as he looked away again.  
Bard smiled. “I think this journey has come at a good time,” he observed. “Maybe you needed quiet time to think things over, decide what lies ahead for you.”  
“I think you think too much,” he said dryly.  
Bard’s smile turned into a full grin. He was completely unperturbed. “I think as much as I need to, to survive, for my children to survive, and for those around me to survive.”  
Thranduil sipped his wine. “You and your people are strong. You will prevail. You have done so in times past; you will continue to do so.”  
“As will you,” Bard replied. “There is no shame in being strong, my King.” Even though Bard was human, not Elvish, he acknowledged the superiority of Thranduil as a mark of respect. “However, there can be such a thing as being too strong. Rest well.”  
Thranduil turned his words over in his mind, as he watched him leave the tent.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Thranduil returned to the palace.  
He resumed Ava’s tuition, but neither spoke of the battle they had faced against the trolls. Day after day, they spent hours, in the palace, out in the courtyard, and sometimes out in the forest, practising her use of her sword. He pushed her hard with her training, he shouted at her, she shouted back. They clashed constantly, her blazing temper colliding with his relentless mission to have her master the skill.  
Both were strong willed to a fault, and they each knew it.  
Legolas watched the bond strengthen between his father and the elf whom he had become quite fond of. He knew his father still mourned the loss of his mother, as he did, but he also knew that he had to move on, to live life again, to embrace what changes it placed in front of them. The past was gone, nothing could bring it back. His mother had been gone a long, long time, and the wall Thranduil had built around him had become stronger and stronger over the passage of time.  
Ava seemed to flourish whenever he was close by, and Legolas had noticed this. His heart warmed; she was a good woman with a warm, loving heart. He had witnessed this in the way she was around other people, around the animals. The day she had fiercely leapt into battle with the trolls in Thranduil’s defence had burned itself into his memory. This was an elf who had been taken away by force from all that she knew, held captive, and who still had no reasonable answers to her many questions. Yet she had still laid her life down for the one who had taken her.  
Legolas watched from the high walls as the two circled each other in the courtyard below, locked in fierce battle. Swords clashed together, Ava’s temper conveyed through her angry attack. Thranduil’s cool, composed defence shone through, outwitting her at every move. Standing much taller than she, he had the height advantage along with more body weight and strength. He was the most skilled warrior to have lived, and she could not have asked for a better tutor. Centuries of using his blade had honed his skill into an almost poetic art form. Ava fought with her emotions.  
Legolas smiled in amusement as he watched her throw her weapon to the ground, waving her arms around and yelling, before storming away. Her long black hair swirled around her as she moved, angry strides carrying her away from her opponent.  
Thranduil smirked as he re-sheathed his sword, stooping to retrieve hers from where it had fallen as she had thrown it in rage and disgust.  
“She still has a lot to learn,” Legolas remarked, as he reached his father’s side.  
“Yes,” he agreed, turning the smirk to his son. “She fights with her heart, not her head. That is what I must address, and soon.”  
Legolas smiled, keeping his thoughts private. “There is something else you may need to address,” he said, his face turning serious.  
Thranduil looked at him.  
“I overheard a conversation in the village market,” he said.  
Ice blue eyes held baby blue ones.  
“It would appear that one of our guards is a little infatuated with your protégé.”  
Shards of anger flashed in Thranduil’s eyes, before he quickly masked his thoughts. “And who would this be?” he enquired.  
“Voron,” Legolas replied.  
“I will never allow it,” Thranduil said, leading his son in the direction Ava had disappeared. “She is not a Sindar elf.”  
Legolas was aware of this, but surprised that his father mentioned it. “It is not customary for Sindar elves to be with Silvan elves,” he acknowledged. “But-“  
“But nothing,” Thranduil interrupted. “It will not happen. It is unspoken of amongst our people. Voron will not go against me.”  
A guard opened the door to the palace as they approached.  
“I will tend to this matter,” he continued, leading the way inside. He handed Ava’s sword to his son. “See to it that this is returned to her.”  
“Of course,” Legolas replied, and headed off along an adjacent hallway.  
Thranduil watched him leave, his thoughts turning over in his mind.  
*****

 

Ava felt rested.  
She sat on the stone ledge next to the window, watching the impending storm. The sky was magical shades of dark greys and blues, thick, heavy clouds rolling past. Nightfall was imminent, and the promise of thunder hung in the air.  
She had decided to bathe after her practice with Thranduil, and the long, warm soak had drained the anger and frustration from her mind and body. She was envious of how cool and collected he seemed when in battle, whereas she had no control over her emotions and threw every beat of her heart into her task. Each time they had trained, she had finished feeling tired, sore, and with no sense of accomplishment. Knowing this, she figured all she had to do was find a way to control herself.  
In the beginning, she had worried she might strike him unawares, and her sword being quite heavy, was lethal. He had soon proven her unspoken concerns to be fruitless, as he fended off each move with little to no effort.  
Ava had trouble keeping her focus on her task. He was absolutely gorgeous, and he knew it. His moves when fighting mesmerised her, captured her, hypnotised her. His flowing grace and skill moved his body in ways that turned her equilibrium upside down. She could only imagine, if he moved like that in confrontation, what would he be like as a lover?  
Her cheeks burned, that ever-present ache in her flaring up yet again. Staring deep into his eyes during practice as he had instructed, she fought to keep herself from drowning in the blue ice. His voice melted into every pore of her body, mixing with her blood and pounding through her heart.  
Shaking her head to clear it of the images that danced in front of her, she stood up and turned away from the window. She was hungry, and went in search of something to eat. She had helped the cook prepare many tray loads of pastries previously in the day, and was sure she could sneak one without him being upset. The portly elf had welcomed her in his quarters, as she had proved herself to be a good assistant to him when needed.  
The hallways of the palace were deserted, save the occasional guard who bowed their heads in respect as she passed them with a smile. Wondering where Thranduil was, she made her way to where the cook still slaved over his stove.  
“Evening, Faron,” she greeted him.  
He straightened, sweat gleaming on his brow. “Evening, m’Lady,” he replied, giving her a warm smile. “What brings you down here?”  
She folded her arms, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “The burning desire to stop you calling me ‘m’lady’,” she shot back. “And the burning desire for one of your delicious pastries, if I may.”  
“Of course! You need not ask, m’Lady,” he told her, opening the door to a massive walk-in pantry.  
“Stop it!” she laughed. “My name is Ava – use it, please!”  
“It would be disrespectful of me to do so,” he informed her, lifting a tray from a shelf above his head. “And yet it would be disrespectful of me not to obey your wishes. I find myself in an odd situation.”  
She laughed, and Faron could see why, if the rumours were to be believed, that his King had fallen under her spell. “So whatever you do, you think it is going to be wrong? Nonsense...tell me...what would make you comfortable?”  
“Sitting on my rather large rear for a few moments,” he admitted with a laugh.  
“Then sit, and keep me company,” she said, lowering herself onto a wooden stool beside a worktop covered in flour. She helped herself to a pastry topped with berries, closing her eyes in delight as she tasted it. “You work wonders in this place, Faron. I hope you are aware.”  
“My duty is to keep my King happy and well-nourished,” he replied, sitting across from her and wiping his arm across his forehead. “If I can do that, then I have succeeded.”  
She savoured the delicate flavours in her mouth. “You must find happiness within yourself,” she told him. “Serving the King is not your single goal in life.”  
The cook shrugged, taking a pastry. “I have other interests,” he said.  
“Oh?” She was intrigued, devilish amusement and curiosity getting the better of her. “And do these interests involve a certain little brown-haired elf?”  
Faron spluttered, coughing as his pastry went down the wrong way and turning bright red with embarrassment.  
She leaned back on the stool, laughing. “Oh my...you must approach her!”  
He shook his head, still coughing. “No, m’Lady – Ava. I cannot. She would never be interested in me.”  
She tilted her head to one side. “I think you are misinformed,” she said. “I have seen the way she looks at you. A woman can read another woman, my friend. Trust me.” With a nod, she stood. “Thankyou for my food.”  
“You are welcome any time,” he replied, his voice already sounding distant as his mind turned over her words.  
She left him, smiling to herself. Even if she could not be with the one she loved, there was no reason others could not find love.  
The thought stopped her dead.  
_Love?_  
No. No, she did not love him. It was impossible. He had captured her and held her against her will, isolating her from her friends and family. She didn’t know if what he had told her had been the truth, his only saving grace being that he had rescued her from his guard and had not ill-treated her.  
She leaned back against the wall behind her, dragging air into her lungs.  
She did not love him.  
What she felt, she could only describe as desire, lust, awe, sexual longing. But not love. A surge of sexual energy rushed through her as she pictured him standing before her in her mind, so strong, her knees weakened. His cold blue eyes stared at her, his long hair trailing over his shoulders. His collar was open at the throat, revealing skin that she wondered was it as soft as it looked?  
Cursing under her breath, she shook the image from her head, pushing herself away from the wall and continuing on her way.  
As she passed the hall where the council meetings were held, and where she had eaten her meals with him, she caught sight of a white shape on the floor next to the closed door. Wondering what it was in the dim light, she changed direction and went over to pick it up. Holding the sheet of parchment under one of the candles mounted into the stone above her, she narrowed her eyes as she tried to read the words. Some were faded and illegible, but she picked out what she could make out.  
_Agreement between Giron and Malak of the Troll Kingdom_  
_Upon delivery of female elf Ava, payment in the form of gold will be paid to Elmar, Zelpher, and Alluin. ___  
_The trade will take place before the last full moon before winter. ___  
Ava gasped, shocked at what she held in her hands. Giron was her uncle. His name had been signed on the parchment, in his handwriting. She would know it anywhere. Another signature was crudely scrawled next to his, one she could not decipher.  
Her hands shook, and tears burned her eyes.  
This could not be right. Her uncle would never do this to her.  
Thranduil had told her she had been destined to be sold until he had intercepted, but he had not said who was behind it. He had told her nothing, save her friends had betrayed her and had to die.  
A sob escaped from her, her tears overflowing. She panted for breath, circling around in a blind panic. Her own flesh and blood had betrayed her. How long had he known? Why had he kept it from her? She had been in despair for weeks with worry for her uncle, yet it seemed her concerns had been sorely misplaced.  
As had her trust in Thranduil.  
He had not been honest with her.  
She hated him for that. She needed to get away from Mirkwood, and quickly. She needed to put as much distance between herself and the entire kingdom as possible, and now. She never wanted to see him again, and wished she had never come into his life.  
Tearing the parchment into shreds, she dropped it at her feet and fled through the darkened halls.  
Breathless, she burst out of the palace through an unguarded doorway into the courtyard, hurrying over to the stables. Belan lifted her head and snorted softly in welcome.  
“Belan, I need your help, girl,” she said through her tears. “Please take me away from this place.”  
The horse turned away.  
Disappointment sliced through her. “Please Belan – please help me. I need you,” she begged in a broken whisper.  
She waited. Slowly, the animal turned back to face her, rubbing her nose against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, crying into her mane. “Thankyou baby girl...thankyou,” she whispered. Opening the bottom of the door and climbing on top of a bale of hay, she hoisted herself onto her back, taking the reins and guiding her out of the stable.  
She cast a final look over her shoulder up at the palace, her heart shattering into even smaller pieces. She knew she was leaving her heart behind, but it was time to think with her head instead. Thranduil had betrayed her too, by keeping the ugly truth from her. And that hurt her as much as the betrayal of her uncle and her friends.  
Pressing her heels against Belan’s sides, she closed her eyes in despair as they headed off in a rapid gallop.  
*****

_____ _

__

____

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__Thranduil rolled his broad shoulders slightly as he walked towards the hall where he held the council meetings. Tension gripped him, seizing the muscles across his shoulders and upper arms, and he seemed unable to loosen them. Ava appeared in his thoughts, and his eyebrows came down in a slight frown. He hadn’t seen her for most of the day, and assumed she was sleeping. If luck was with him, he would be asleep soon himself. He was tired and worn out.  
White flecks caught his eye as he neared the door to the large hall. Something had been dropped on the floor. He bent and scooped up the pieces without breaking stride, glancing at them in his hand as his other hand reached for the door.  
He froze.  
The agreement between Ava’s uncle and the leader of the trolls.  
His heart missed a beat. The parchment being torn to shreds could only mean one thing – she had found it.  
Anger washed over him. He had entrusted it with one of his guards for safekeeping, but it must have been dropped.  
He tucked the small pieces into his cloak, changing direction and hurrying towards Ava’s room. Throwing the door open wide, he found it empty.  
Panic seized him.  
He forced himself to remain calm, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. His breathing slowed, and his heartbeat slowed.  
He could sense her. He felt her distress, her panic, her clouded judgement. He sensed cold. He sensed darkness.  
His eyes flew open. She was running away.  
A renewed sense of urgency flooding through his body, he left the palace and went straight to the stables.  
Belan had disappeared.  
His shoulders slumped. Belan would keep her safe, would guard her with her life, but Ava was blinded by grief, betrayal, and pain. She would not be able to look after herself, or her mount. With a soft word, Belroch trotted towards him from the shadows at the rear of the stable.  
“Find your sister and my love,” he whispered to him in Sindarin as he threw himself up onto the massive animal. “Find them.”  
The horse reared up onto his hind legs and took off at speed. Passing through the gates, he carried his master across the stone bridge and over fields and meadows, heading for the dense forest. Shadows and shapes flew past them in the semi-darkness, the clouds growing darker and heavier. The coming storm was gathering strength before breaking.  
Thranduil lined himself low on the horse, holding his body close to his, as they sped through the darkness of the woods. Belroch’s hooves thundered through the dense undergrowth, pounding through the trees and woodlands. He jumped the river that flowed in front of them, landing graciously and continuing to gallop onwards.  
Thranduil’s heart beat ferociously in his chest. They were heading towards dangerous territory, grounds which the massive spiders inhabited. It wasn’t too far away from them, and he was terrified Ava would find herself in their midst. Gritting his teeth in determination, he leaned down and whispered into Belroch’s ear once more. “Find them, boy. Find them.”  
The animal continued to run, crashing through the woodlands, the same urgency flowing through him as that which flowed through his master.  
Up ahead, Thranduil caught the flash of a white tail disappearing in the darkness.  
“Ava!” he roared, kicking his heels against Belroch’s sides. “Ava!”  
She heard him shout, his voice echoing off the trees surrounding her. Panic shot through her bloodstream, and she urged Belan faster. She wanted nothing to do with him, and did not want him coming after her.  
Hooves thundered behind her, gaining on her.  
He forced back his emotions at finding her still alive, closing the distance between them. Belan was a large horse, but Belroch was bigger and faster.  
A scream ripped from Ava as he threw himself from his horse, grabbing her and rolling the two of them down onto the ground. They hit the grass hard, winding both of them. She struggled against him, kicking and punching. He rolled her over, pinning her to the ground beneath him, holding her wrists on either side of her head. With a deft movement, she flipped her legs up and kicked him off, rolling away from him and scrambling to her knees.  
Two warriors faced each other, breathless and panting.  
“Stay away from me,” she said, her voice low and broken. The look in her eyes was undeniable hatred, even in the darkness that surrounded them. “I hate you.”  
He shook his head, panting to get his breath back. “You don’t hate me,” he said. “You are angry.”  
“With you,” she hissed. “You lied to me.”  
“I did not tell you everything,” he conceded.  
Tears streamed down her cheeks, the moonlight sparkling in them as they cascaded down her face. “Stay away from me.”  
He remained where he was, crouched low, holding her still with his intense stare, one hand braced against the grass. Her heartbeat thumped so loudly, she was sure he would be able to hear it in the gloom and stillness.  
Her grief sent shards of pain through his own heart. He had not wanted her to find out like this, she deserved better that that. She deserved to know from someone she knew and trusted, someone who would not hurt her or turn away from her.  
The accidental dropping of the parchment had stopped him from being that person.  
He kept his predator-like stare fixed on her, not blinking. Likewise, she held his gaze, trying to read his thoughts, judge his next move before he made it.  
Her tears continued to flow hard and fast, blurring her vision, blurring her ability to read his moves. Before she knew what was happening, he dived for her, holding her in a steel grip against his body. She screamed and struggled, twisted and wriggled for all she was worth, but he remained silent, maintaining his hold on her. She threw her head back, but he knew it was coming and leaned slightly to his right.  
“Stop this, Ava,” he said softly, so close to her ear.  
His velvet voice cut through her grief. His chest felt warm and hard at her back, comforting. His strong arms imprisoned her against him, but did not hurt her.  
The anger and fight left her suddenly, and he felt the change in her. Her body sagged against his, everything pouring out of her soul. She sobbed like her heart was breaking, struggling to breathe.  
Turning her to face him, he cradled her against his chest and rested his chin on top of her head. Her body shook and trembled as she cried, her sobs cutting into him like no sword ever could. Strong, gentle hands rubbed her back, trying in vain to soothe her. The heat from his body merged itself into hers, warding off the chill within her.  
She did not know how long they stayed huddled together on the grass, how long she cried and sobbed, or how long he remained perfectly still as he held her. The two horses had slowed in their frantic gallop and wound their way back to where they had lost their riders, now grazing quietly beside each other.  
“I have nothing left,” she whispered hoarsely, her throat sore.  
He shifted his chin fractionally on top of her head. “That is untrue,” he responded.  
Lifting her head, she gazed at him, her eyes red and swollen through her tears. “Nothing,” she repeated.  
“You have your strength,” he told her, his voice low. “Nothing can take that from you.”  
Shaking her head, she looked down at her lap, saying nothing.  
He took a deep breath, resuming his former position against her, his blue eyes troubled. He had to find a way to bring her through this, to make her strong again, to make her believe in herself again. He inwardly cursed the guard who had dropped the document, as his mistake had led to this. Hoping against the odds that he had what it would take to fix things, he eventually untangled himself from her, getting to his feet and helping her to hers.  
With no words between them, he led her over to Belan, gently lifting her up onto her back.  
Sad eyes met his, filled with anguish and heartbreak. He gazed back into hers, a mixture of emotions visible in the moonlight.  
“You will recover from this,” he promised softly. “You have my word.” 


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

 

The ride back to the palace was silent, save for the wind whistling through the forest as it picked up in intensity. The horses walked peacefully side by side, both their riders lost in their own thoughts.  
Ava thought of her uncle, of the evil trade he had arranged behind her back. She thought of the years he had looked after her, raised her, and taught her. He had provided for her, guiding her into the strong woman she grown to be. She thought of Zelpher, Alluin, and Elmar. They had known one another since childhood, and she never thought for a moment they would turn against her. What had her uncle done to make them a part of his unspeakable evil?  
Beside her, Thranduil’s mind was on her. He knew that he possessed the ability to hear her thoughts if he so intended, but he chose not to. That would be an invasion of her privacy, and she needed her own private thoughts. She needed to come to terms with events for herself, with his guidance if she needed or required it.  
They arrived back at the stables, where he did his usual practice and lifted her down from Belan’s back. Again, his hands burned to maintain his hold on her, but he released her.  
Her skin burned through her clothing where his hands had rested. Every cell in her body blasted to life, silently screaming for more. The ache between her legs grew more persistent, her breasts feeling swollen in arousal.  
Turning from him, she put a hand on Belan’s nose. The horse bowed her head down, and she placed a soft kiss on her nose, murmering something to her.  
Thranduil watched the exchange, the lump in his throat taking him by surprise. The closeness between Ava and the horse affected him; he had not witnessed such a close bond other than that which he had with Belroch. He guided both animals back into the stable, spoke to them in low tones in Sindarin, and left them to rest.  
Closing the doors, he turned to her. She gazed up at him, completely unguarded and torn apart. His heart pounded strongly. The temptation to touch her was overwhelming, but he fought against it. She was vulnerable, and needed his strength.  
“You need sleep,” he told her.  
She nodded, almost in defeat. “Yes.”  
He breathed deeply through his nose. “Come. Do you need food?”  
She shook her head, allowing him to lead her inside. He took her through the maze of hallways to her room, where she collapsed onto the bed, every ounce of fight having deserted her.  
He gently pushed her back so she lay on her side with her head on the soft pillow, and pulled the blankets up over her. “Rest, Nin mel,” he said.  
She closed her eyes.  
*****

 

Several times though the night, she had drifted awake, sensing she was not alone in the darkness. Turning her head, she saw Thranduil sitting on the couch in the far corner of the room, one long leg crossed over the other, watching her silently. Shadows from the solitary flickering candle danced around him, the light from the flame giving a gleam to his eyes.  
But he said nothing, so she turned over and let the depths of sleep pull her back again.  
By the time the sun had risen, she was ready to face whatever the day held for her. Or she thought she was. She got out of bed, freshened up, and picked at the tray of food which had been left for her sometime throughout the night. Her appetite was scarce, but she was thirsty, so she drank the water that had been left there.  
A gentle knock on the door drew her attention, and she went over and opened it.  
Thranduil stood before her, his gaze already penetrating her soul.  
She moved to the side, giving him silent permission to enter. Although he did not require it, and they both knew it, he respected her privacy and her choice. She closed the door behind him, and walked past him to sit on the couch.  
After a few moments of silence, he spoke. “I understand you are angry, and I understand why,” he said. “Believe me when I say I did not want you to have to find out what I had kept hidden, and least not in the manner which you did. A King does not ask for forgiveness; _I _do not ask for forgiveness.” He paused. “But I am asking you to forgive me.” He fell silent.__  
“I am sure you had your reasons, although I do not understand them,” she replied after a long silence. “I am not sure I want to know. Know anything. I have had enough, enough lies, enough hatred, enough of...enough of...life.” Her last word came out as a whisper.  
He dropped to crouch on one knee in front of her. “You cannot think that,” he said, alarm in his eyes. “You have inner strength, you have your people who came before you to guide you in spirit. You cannot let this defeat you.”  
Sad eyes held his. “I do not know anymore. I do not know what I want.”  
_Want me. Want my love for you, want me with you, day and night _, he pleaded silently. “You are unable to move forwards until you know the truth,” he said, ignoring his inner voice. “The truth will set your mind free, show you the right direction.”__  
She closed her eyes momentarily against the pain she felt. “What I have learned so far has destroyed me,” she whispered. She felt tears burning her eyes and looked away impatiently, determined not to spill them again. This was a strong ruler, a King who showed practically no emotion. She had already showed her vulnerable side, and did not want to expose it again.  
“It will only destroy you if you allow it,” he told her. “Perhaps with the true knowledge, you will find guidance that you cannot see now.”  
She turned back to him. “What if I cannot find it?”  
“Then I will help you find it,” he answered.  
“Why?”  
He blinked, caught unawares. “The power in you has the ability to construct or destroy,” he said eventually. “It can either create, or ruin. How you use it depends on the choices you have made, the knowledge you have learned, the guidance you are given.”  
“Is it so important to your people?” she asked.  
_You are more important than anything _. “It is important to more than my people.”__  
She lowered her head.  
He stared at the lengths of straight black hair that drifted over her shoulders as she did so.  
Finally, she looked back up at him. “Tell me everything you know,” she whispered.  
“I will,” he said, and raised himself to stand. Holding a hand out, he helped her to her feet, guiding her to the door. “I have something which I must show you, for you to fully understand.”  
She followed him, and they made their way to the hall where he seemed to spend most of his time when they were not training.  
He walked before her, leading the way up a set of carved stone steps set to the back of the massive room which she had not noticed previously, and along a narrow ledge. His cloak swirled around him as he walked, the graceful and elegant movements soothing her as she stepped behind him. Her gaze lifted to the blond hair which hung down his back, giving him an even more powerful, majestic look. A look which crashed through every protective barrier she had.  
The stone wall opened inwards, and she gasped as he stood aside, revealing shelves and shelves of books. Books that were hundreds, thousands of years old, amassed over centuries. Her gaze scanned rows and rows of them.  
“I did not know you read,” she murmered in wonder.  
A smirk appeared. “I have a thirst for knowledge,” he replied. He strode along the path between the shelves, stopping in the centre. “One of these books holds the answers to all your questions.”  
She stepped towards him, her senses suddenly razor sharp. “It is that one,” she said, pointing to a book high above her. The spine was dark red leather, with ancient script in gold lettering, although she did not know what it said.  
He tilted his head in approval, reaching over her shoulder to retrieve the book she had chosen. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent and the feeling of him being so close to her.  
“Come, we shall be seated,” he said, studying the cover of the book he held in his hands. Lifting his eyes to hers, a shockwave went through him. Mentally shrugging it off, he went back down the steps and she followed.  
They sat at the wooden table, her seated in the same seat as before, with him again adjacent to her. He pushed the book towards her, and she gazed at him with fear and trepidation in her eyes before opening it.  
Her eyebrows came down in a frown. “I do not know this tongue,” she murmered, scanning the script that lay on the pages. Turning them over, she stopped, trying to make sense of old, faded illustrations.  
“The book speaks of one who has a birthmark,” Thranduil said, as she lifted questioning eyes to him. “A birthmark in the ancient symbol of fire and ice.”  
She gasped. “I have that birthmark,” she said.  
He nodded once. “I know.”  
She frowned again. “How can you know that?”  
A second passed before he responded. “I saw it, the night my guard attacked you in the dungeon.”  
She looked away, her cheeks red with embarrassment. The birthmark was up at the top of her thigh. Who knew what else he had seen of her?  
“There is no need to feel shame,” he said softly, so softly that she looked back at him. “The shame lies with the guard, not with you.”  
She swallowed nervously as she accepted his words. “But you did not know before that?”  
“No.” He shook his head. “I received word that an elf was to be sold, for unfit purposes. I will not stand back and do nothing when an elf is in need.”  
A short silence hung in the air. “So when you took me from the forest, you did not know about this?” She indicated the pages in front of her.  
“Every elf knows the prophecy in this book,” he replied. “But no – I did not know then that you were the one.” He decided not to tell her Gandalf the wizard had alerted him to the supposed sale of her, and had strongly advised him to intervene. Gandalf had expectations greater than she was ready to hear, greater than she could cope with, being that she had no feelings for him.  
“What were the ‘unfit purposes’, as you put it?” she asked.  
He looked away, surprising her. He was predatory in the sense that he very seldom broke someone’s gaze. His face hardened, and she knew instantly he did not want to tell her.  
“Thranduil,” she said softly.  
His gaze flashed back to hers. It was the first time she had called him by name, and the word had rolled off her tongue like silk. Fear pierced him like an arrow.  
“You gave me your word,” she reminded him.  
“You were to be sold for breeding purposes,” he said quietly.  
His words hung suspended in the air between them.  
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, and she fought to find the words she wanted to say. “What do you mean, breeding purposes?”  
He leaned towards her and turned the book so it faced him, flipping through the pages. Finding the one he wanted, he turned it back to face her.  
Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God,” she whispered in horror. A coloured image lay on the page before her.  
Of herself.  
An identical likeness.  
“You were born with the power to see into the far future, the power to change it,” he said. “The trolls know of this prophecy, and they knew if they were to breed with you, the offspring you produce would also have that power. They wanted to use it for their own gains, to destroy middle earth as we know it. They look to resurrect the evil that once covered these lands.”  
She sat in shock, her mouth open, but in silence.  
“I have not had this in my possession for long,” he said, turning the page over, away from the image of her. “Otherwise I would have known on sight your true identity.”  
“Breeding,” she whispered eventually. Tear-filled eyes met his. “My uncle sold me so I could give be violated and give birth to a race that would destroy everything? Why? Why would he do that? Why?”  
“Greed,” he replied. “The amount of gold the trolls had arranged to pay for you was considerable, even by my standards.”  
A tear escaped, and she angrily wiped it away with the back of her hand. “He planned this all along, I suppose,” she said. “My own flesh and blood.”  
He looked as though he was going to say something, but changed his mind and looked away.  
“What?” she questioned. “You were going to say something. Tell me.”  
He closed the book, before looking into her eyes. “If every word in this book is correct, he is not your flesh and blood.”  
“Wrong,” she said instantly. “He was my father’s brother.”  
Thranduil shook his head, sadness in his normally cold, hard eyes. “The book documents a newborn being taken from slaughtered parents, and raised in deceit by those ruled by darkness and greed.”  
She stood up, pacing up and down at her side of the table. “My whole life has been a lie,” she said, half to herself. “Everything I have ever been taught, ever believed in – it has all been untrue. Everything.”  
“No,” he said. “You have a strength in you which I have seldom seen. That strength will take you on your chosen path. It will help you make the choices you need to make.”  
“Then why has it not helped me so far?” she cried, her emotions clear. “Why has it allowed everything I held dear to be a huge mistake, all those around me since birth to have lied to me? Betrayed me? Everything has been lie after lie stacked on top of one another, to build this whole scenario out, to guide me to the trolls so they could rape me and breed from me!”  
“Which is why I was requested to intervene and stop it,” he said. “Your power has not yet come to light, but you will be in great danger when it does, if not before then. Both the trolls and your ‘uncle’ will make every effort to hunt you down.”  
“My life has no meaning,” she whispered, her spirit broken. “No matter where I am, I will bring danger to those around me.” Her head whipped around as she took in her surroundings. “I cannot stay here.”  
“Why do you think I brought you here?” he asked her. “This is the one stronghold where you will be protected, and be completely safe. My army would die to protect your legacy. They too are aware of what will happen if the trolls are successful in their mission.”  
A heavy sadness settled in her heart, as she realised, looking into his mesmerising eyes, that he had only continued to help her in order to maintain peace throughout the land. To prevent war and a slaughter.  
He felt nothing for her.  
The hall seemed to tilt and turn around her. She gripped the table, leaning on it for support.  
He had noticed a change in her eyes, knew something had clicked into place in her mind. “What is it?”  
She shook her head as she pursed her mouth, stubborn determination taking over. “I don’t know. Exhaustion. Emotional anguish. I do not know.”  
He nodded. “I too know of something you believe in with all your heart being taken, of the emptiness that is left when you discover the truth.”  
She knew he was referring to Legolas’s mother, and chose not to comment, not knowing how to respond. If she was honest with herself, she burned with jealousy at the thought of any woman capable of winning his heart in such a deep, devoted manner.  
“I have no knowledge of where to turn,” she said after a short silence. “Maybe it would have been better if you had left me in the forest.”  
“No. You were almost in dangerous territory, where the spiders breed,” he said. “They would have killed you.”  
“They would have corrected the mistake,” she said.  
Anger flashed across his eyes. “You are not a mistake!” he snarled at her. “Your power is not a mistake. It has been given to the one who will decide in her heart how to use it.”  
She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “There is so much...I cannot take everything in and understand it,” she sighed. “Everything you are telling me, showing me-“ she indicated the closed book half-heartedly “-is a mess inside my mind.”  
“It will take time to process everything,” he said, his voice calmer again. He had not meant to show her his anger, but to hear her refer to herself and her existence as a mistake angered his soul. She was so precious, fragile yet strong, loving, kind-hearted, and still a strong warrior underneath it all, and she had no idea what she meant to him. He ached to tell her, to show her, to prove to her how much he loved her.  
Even though it scared the life from him.  
“Do you wish to train today?” he asked, altering the direction of his thoughts.  
She shook her head. “No, not really. I don’t think I have it in me at present.”  
“I understand,” he said. “Maybe you would be better suited to reading through some of my collection.”  
A hint of a grateful smile appeared, only briefly. “I think I would like that,” she replied. “Maybe I can close everything off and forget reality for a time.”  
He rose from his chair, glancing up at the steps leading to the room of books. “Do you wish to take refuge up there?”  
She nodded. “Yes. It feels really peaceful up there.”  
He held his arm out, ushering her before him. He placed a hand on her lower back to guide her as she climbed the steps, ensuring she did not trip on the uneven surfaces.  
Fire radiated across her back where his hand touched her.  
“I shall leave you for some time,” he said as they reached the book room. Withdrawing his touch, he turned and went back down the steps, disappearing from view. An instant chill replaced the heat where his hand had been.  
She turned her attention to the hoards of books that were displayed before her, tilting her head sideways as she read the titles on the spines. A large number of them were in languages she did not know, but that still left lots that she did. Taking her time, she finally chose a book that caught her interest.  
Curling up on a soft couch covered in deep red velvet, she opened the book and began to lose herself in the pages.  
She had got to the seventeenth page, when soft footsteps caught her attention. Looking up, she watched as Thranduil appeared. He carried a platter, loaded with food and a pitcher of wine, which he set on the stone ledge in front of her. Taking a book from a shelf way up beyond her reach, he settled at the other end of the couch, giving her a faint smile as he did so. He sat in silence, reading.  
His presence comforted her, made her feel safe, and not so alone. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he leisurely crossed one knee over the other, giving her a view of his magnificent, strong thigh. Swallowing, she forced herself to concentrate on the book she held, instead of the god who sat just a few feet away from her.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Heat radiated from the flames of the fire which blazed in the stone setting. Ava breathed deeply, her eyes closed.  
“Clear your mind.” Thranduil’s velvet voice caressed her, sending shivers down her back. “Make the walls disappear, make the room disappear.”  
She focused on his words, mentally closing off part of her mind.  
The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, and the sound of him breathing, as he sat cross-legged in front of her, so close, his knees brushed hers.   
“Feel the openness,” he whispered.  
All she wanted to feel was him, pressed tight against her, on her, in her. The realisation made her eyes fly open, and his instantly opened. His eyebrows came down in a frown of disapproval.  
“I am not doing this the right way,” she sighed.   
“It will open for you,” he said. “You must be patient.”  
She took a deep breath of frustration; both intellectual and sexual frustration. “How will I know?” she asked.  
A faint smile tugged at one corner of his mouth “You will know,” he answered. “You will instantly be aware. So I gather.” He uncrossed his legs, stretching them out to one side of her instead, and leaned back on his hands, placed behind him on the floor.  
She maintained her position, comfortable as she was. “We have been doing this for six days, yet I see no signs of anything,” she said.   
“It is like your fighting skills,” he replied, not taking his eyes off hers. “You must practice, refine your technique, your approach. It will all come together in good time.”  
“You told me once when I asked about my uncle, that you would speak to one of your messengers,” she said, changing the subject.”Yet you have told me you do not speak untruths.”  
“And I did not,” he said. “I speak with my messengers several times each day.” An arrogant smirk accompanied his words.  
Again, she felt the burning need to feel him inside her, controlling her body as well as her teachings. “Side-stepping the truth,” she observed.  
“While still not speaking untruths,” he pointed out. That lazy, self-satisfied smirk remained.  
The heat between her legs remained, so she shifted position slightly. “I have another question. How did you know where to find me?”  
“I could sense you,” he told her, the smirk fading and his eyes becoming serious. “That is a gift which I possess. If I truly need to find someone significant, I can sense them, sense what they feel, sometimes their surroundings. I sensed your anguish, the coldness, the dark. I knew you were leaving the safety of this place.” He lifted a hand, gesturing to the walls that surrounded them. “I went to the stables and found Belan had gone, and I knew she was with you.”  
“But you did not know where I was,” she said, frowning as she thought over what he had said.   
The smirk reappeared. “I told you once before, Belan and Belroch are brother and sister, they are connected. They know where each other are in times of need.”  
“Impressive,” she murmered. She turned her head as the door opened, and Voron appeared.  
Ava immediately sensed a deep anger, a burning rage, a hatred. She remained silent.  
“My Lord, cook requests to know which dishes you wish him to prepare,” he said.  
Thranduil eyed him with hostility. “I will go and see him myself. Later.”  
“Yes, my Lord,” he said, and disappeared.  
Thranduil turned back to her, about to speak. Seeing her eyes, he stopped. “What is it?”  
“Deep, dark hatred,” she whispered. “It has gone.”  
He leaned forwards, crossing his hands over his legs in front of him. “When did you feel this?” he asked.  
“When Voron came in,” she answered. Her eyes were troubled. “Is this what you are teaching me?”  
“In part,” he replied.   
“Why did you not sense it?”  
“I can control when I use it,” he told her. “As will you through time. This is only one part of what you have to learn.”  
“I need to find him, talk to him,” she said, making as if to rise from the rug. “He must have trouble on his mind for me to feel that.”  
A hand shot out and grabbed her with a steel grip, preventing her from moving. “Do not follow this,” he advised, his tone low, with a touch of anger. “This is not for you to question. It is not for you to correct.”  
“But he has been a good friend to me,” she said, confusion in her eyes.  
“We do not know what goes on in his life outside of here,” he said. “It would be unwise to involve yourself.”  
She reluctantly agreed, and he released his hold on her.   
“Close your eyes, breathe slowly, and relax,” he advised her. “If this has begun to open, you must be able to close it at will. I will teach you how.”  
She obeyed, and closed her eyes.  
Thranduil did not close his straight away. Instead, his thoughts remained on what she had told him. Voron’s anger and hatred had stemmed from when Legolas had informed him that the guard had taken a strong liking to Ava. He had wasted no time in warning him to stay away from her, and that she was not available for offers from any of his company. The guard had kept his distance ever since, showing up only when required. He himself had sensed the darkness coming from him, but chose to let it be unless it presented a problem. He did not want Ava bringing up the subject and running the risk of finding out the guard lusted after her. He did not want fate to tempt her.  
*****

 

“I get so tired sometimes,” Ava told Legolas, swinging her crossed feet as she sat balanced on the fallen tree. “It feels like there is so much pressure to learn, and take everything in, like I cannot absorb it all as quickly as I should.”  
Her companion paused in whittling a thick branch. “Maybe you are putting too much pressure on yourself?” he suggested. “Is my father demanding too much?”  
She shook her head. “No. If anything, he seems to be really patient. I get so angry with myself though...my sword practice this morning was terrible.”  
Legolas relaxed his shoulders, dropping his hands to his lap. “Not every lesson will go according to plan,” he told her.  
“But your father makes everything seem so smooth, so controlled, then I come along and it all goes to hell,” she murmered.  
He smiled, keeping his thoughts to himself. “My father is the most skilled swordsman you are likely to meet, and he has had hundreds of years to perfect what he does best,” he said. “It is not something you can master over weeks, months, or even years. Some people never do, and I have no knowledge of anyone reaching his level.”  
She thought over his words. “How long have you been shooting?” she questioned, indicating his bow which rested on a tree stump next to him.  
“Since childhood,” he replied. “It was one of the first things I learned, one of my first memories. I will never come close to my father’s skill with a sword, but I have mastered archery, and it is better suited to me.”  
She gazed off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. “The trolls who ambushed us,” she said suddenly, drawing her gaze to him. “They were here for me.”  
He inhaled deeply. “I think so,” he said, honestly. His gaze drifted over her left shoulder, where he could see his father, watching them from his horse. “But I have heard nothing concerning that incident,” he said determinedly, drawing back to her in case she turned to see what he was looking at. “Perhaps it was just a random attack. It happens sometimes.”  
“Mmm,” she murmered.  
Thranduil turned Belroch and silently disappeared.  
“But they ambushed and attacked your father,” she went on. “They would not have known I would respond also. He was alone in the meadow.”  
“If indeed they were here for you, they would have known they would have had to get through him to get to you,” he said. “And they would have been prepared for that.”  
“He could have died. Because of me.”  
He read the sadness in her eyes. “He knew this when he brought you here,” he reminded her, his tone gentle and reassuring. “And it would take more than a handful of trolls to end his life. Believe me – I have seen him outnumbered and headed for certain death many times Ava, and he is still here.”  
“I do not want any death on my conscience,” she told him. “I already carry the deaths of my supposed friends with me, that burden is heavy enough. I do not wish to add to it.”  
He nodded in understanding. “The power you carry – the power to see the future and therefore to change it – will come to you when you are ready for it. It will show you what you need to do, it will guide you. Until then, you have my father and myself standing shoulder to shoulder with you. Let us carry the burdens.”  
She gave a shadow of a smile. “He does not believe in friendship,” she said. “But I still do. Even after what I have learned.”  
“He does not believe in a lot of things,” Legolas laughed. “Do not let that fool you. He holds many things deep. Deep within his heart, so deep that sometimes he forgets.”  
“Yet you are so open,” she remarked.  
He shrugged. “I too have suffered loss, but on a different level,” he said. “People become what they wish to become. They allow themselves to change when faced with difficulties in life. Some grow weaker, others stronger. Some perish and die, others fight back and conquer. Each to his own.”  
“I too have to grow stronger,” she said, staring into the distance again. “That is my challenge, my destiny.”  
“And you will,” he replied. “I am sure of this. So is my father.”  
*****

 

She stood facing the window, her eyes closed, concentrating hard.  
Thranduil stood undetected in the doorway, watching her. Her straight black hair fell past her hips like a waterfall. Her shoulders stayed strong, her spine rigid.  
He moved silently to stand behind her.  
“Relax your shoulders,” he said softly, so close, she felt his breath on her ear.  
She complied, saying nothing.  
“Now relax your spine.”  
Again she complied. Warm fingertips massaged her temples in slow movements, with a velvet touch. She breathed in, absorbing the heat from him at her back.  
“Clear your mind. Clear everything away except the sound of my voice,” he said, his tone low and hypnotic.  
She worked hard in her head to do as he advised. The gentle, circular motions of his fingers relaxed her entire body and soul.   
“Imagine an eagle, in full flight,” he whispered. “Feel the breeze, lifting the feathers of his wings.”  
The image came clear to her.  
“Feel the soft flutter of his feathers.”  
A strange feeling shifted deep inside her.  
“Become the eagle.”  
The feeling grew stronger.  
“Feel the wind in your feathers,” he whispered.  
She breathed slowly and deeply. For a few seconds she held the image, then gasped.  
He broke contact, and had a smirk on his face as she turned to him. “You see?”  
She blinked, hard. “That was...”  
“Almost magical,” he finished for her, as she trailed off. “You became the eagle. You felt the wind, the sun, the freedom, the movements of your wings, your feathers.”  
“Yes,” she gasped. “I did.”  
The smirk intensified. “I too have this gift.”  
“I have never experienced this before,” she said, still blinking hard. “Yes, it is magical.” She wondered what other gifts he possessed.  
“By using this ability, you will be closer to your goal of opening your own gift,” he told her. “It will assist in opening your mind, opening your boundaries.”  
“Do you have the gift you speak of?” she asked.  
He shook his head, his hair falling softly over his shoulders as he moved. “I do not. I can guide you part way towards your own; the rest you must discover for yourself.”  
A touch of disappointment shot through her.  
“I understand you have concerns about the safety of those around you,” he said, his ice blue eyes holding her captive.  
“Your son reports everything,” she commented.  
His smirk deepened. “He tells me what I need to know,” he replied. “You concern yourself with matters of no importance. I will ensure the safety of my company. This is not something you need waste energy dwelling upon. It can be used better elsewhere.”  
He moved away from her. She took in his attire. He wore a dark grey, long-sleeved tunic, dark grey tight-fitting trousers, and knee high boots. Over his shoulders hung a grey cloak with deep orange colour through it. She watched as he hesitated by a selection of fruit, glancing at her briefly as he picked up a peach.  
He held it in front of him, gently rubbing his thumb across the velvet surface, his eyes boring into hers. Her mouth went dry and her heart rate went into overdrive. She felt the ache between her legs intensify as he continued to stare at her, holding her prisoner without touching her.  
She jumped as he tossed the peach into the air, unsheathed his sword and swung the blade upwards, slicing the fruit on its descent. The two perfectly cut halves landed on the floor.  
“You have no need for concern,” he said softly, and left her alone.  
*****

 

Thranduil spun around, his hair swirling around him. “What?”  
Ava glanced at Voron, who held a steel gaze.  
“That is the word, my Lord,” he said.  
Thranduil glared briefly at her, before turning back to his guard. “If this is true, they will take days to assemble themselves,” he said. “There is no need for alarm. We will be ready for them.”  
Voron dipped his head. “Yes, my Lord. I will prepare the company.”  
“See that they are fully equipped and ready,” Thranduil told him. His tone spoke of boredom, which intrigued Ava. “Have your leaders gather for council at dawn.”  
Voron bowed his head, glanced at Ava, who offered a sympathetic smile, and left the room.  
Thranduil turned cold eyes in her direction. “You will not be here when this unfolds,” he told her.   
“I am not leaving,” she replied. “You brought me here for a reason. Now you keep me here to protect my welfare, to protect those who live on these lands, and to develop this gift. You do not cast me aside at the first sign of trouble. That is not the natural order of things.”  
His eyes widened in surprise. Yet again, the fire which blazed to live inside her had caught him off-guard. “You do not tell me what I can and cannot do,” he said, his softly-spoken words heavy with warning.  
She ignored it. She was far too deeply involved emotionally to back away. The image of him being thrown over Belroch’s head, rolling forwards and landing crouched on one knee, had haunted her since the day it had happened. The horror, the panic, and the grief that had filled her soul had never really left her. Physical pain radiated across her heart at the thought of him being injured, or worse.  
He sighed. “We will discuss it closer to the time,” he said. “But for now, what I said still stands.”  
“As does what I said,” she answered.  
He stared at her for a few moments, looking up at her as he had his head lowered. The look in his eyes should have scared her; instead she found her resolve melting. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that this man could get his own way with her whenever he chose, with a single glance, a look.   
He blinked, breaking the invisible hold he had on her. Patting the space on the couch next to him, he spoke. “Let us see if we can achieve something good from this evening.”  
She complied, eyeing him warily, knowing the discussion was far from over. He turned to face her, and she faced him, tucking one leg underneath her.  
“I do not know how you have the patience for this,” she murmered, closing her eyes and willing her body to relax.  
“I have patience. I can wait for hundreds of years for something I desire,” he said, his voice turning her bones to liquid. Images of him in a passionate embrace appeared in her mind, his eyes closed, head thrown back, his mouth open in ecstasy. “The patience will come to you also.”  
She wriggled in her position slightly, forcing the images away and concentrating on her teaching. Time passed, with nothing happening. Still she waited, did as he instructed, focused on his voice.   
Nothing.  
A warm feeling washed down her head, over her shoulders and down the length of her body as his fingertips gently touched her temples, rubbing in slow, hypnotic, relaxing movements. The warm feeling turned to heat, and spread throughout every fibre in her.  
Ava felt as though she was no longer sitting, no longer in the room, or anywhere in the palace. She did not know where she was, but the feeling of weightlessness overtook her, as though she was afloat. There was nothing surrounding her, so she could not make out if it was day or night, whether she was inside or outside.  
All she felt was a deep calm and sense of peace.  
Then she saw something.  
She watched in her mind’s eye as Thranduil appeared before her, sitting on an ornate chair, somewhere she didn’t recognise. His head was turned towards his right shoulder, a wide smile on his face. His features looked completely different, illuminated and softened with a look of happiness.  
With a look of intense love and adoration.  
She watched as he held his right hand out, and saw a woman’s hand take hold of his, and his smile grow.  
So did the love in his eyes.   
She gasped and recoiled in horror, jumping back from him and breaking his touch on her. Panting for breath, she inched backwards away from him.  
“Ava, what is it? You saw something,” he said, urgency in his tone. “What did you see?”  
She dragged breath into her lungs, feeling like she was losing control. The room seemed to spin around her, his voice sounded miles away.  
“Tell me,” he urged. “Tell me what you saw.”  
“No!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “No!”  
He looked at her in confusion.  
“I can’t,” she said, tears blurring her vision. “I’m not ready. I can’t. Not right now.”  
With that, she ran out of the room, and away from him. Of all the things in the world she could have been shown, what she had seen was not what she had wanted. She wanted to see him happy; she was prepared to die for his happiness, but she did not want to see him with another woman. Fate was being cruel showing her that, and she had no idea how to process it.   
She ran as fast as she could through the corridors in an attempt to put distance between them, bursting into her room and throwing her back against the door as she slammed it closed. Sliding down the wood to sit on the floor, she let her tears of anguish fall freely.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, feelings come to a head.

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Ava spent most of the night awake, unable to fall over the abyss into sleep. Her body was tired, her mind was tired, and her heart was tired. The vision she had seen had stayed with her through the darkness, and she could not clear it from her memory.  
Thranduil deserved to be happy. She just had far too many emotions concerning him to be able to take in what she had seen.  
Maybe once the gift he spoke of was in full use and the danger had passed, she could move on and forget him, make a new life elsewhere. She knew she could not stay in Mirkwood forever, and had to start over again at some time, without her supposed family at her side.  
She knew realistically she would never forget him, no matter how hard she tried. He had burned a fire in her soul which would burn for all eternity, no matter what lay ahead in weeks, months, or years to come. She would remember him for centuries.  
After straightening herself and preparing for the day ahead, she left her room with a feeling of doom that she couldn’t shake from her shoulders. Putting it down to what she had seen the previous evening, she made her way through in search of Faron and to find out what he had been cooking.  
She turned towards the cook’s area, to come face to face with legions of Thranduil’s soldiers rushing towards her. Stepping quickly aside, she watched hundreds of them flee from the palace.  
Something was definitely wrong. Shouldering her way through them, she made her way to the kitchens, where Faron was in a blind panic.  
“What’s going on, Faron?” she cried. “What’s happened?”  
“We are under attack, Ava,” the cook panted, gathering the children who helped him, and ushering them deeper inside the palace. “They started before dawn, we have lost hundreds of lives already.”  
“Oh my God,” Ava gasped. “Where is the King?”  
“I do not know Ava – please find him and keep him safe – he needs you more than he will admit,” Faron said, grasping her upper arms in a firm grip. “Protect him with your life.”  
She nodded, panic constricting her throat. Breaking free of his hold, she turned tail and fled through the hallways, bursting into the room where he held his meetings.  
Of course he wasn’t there. The whole place was deserted.  
She turned back the way she had come, running through what seemed like miles and miles of hallways and corridors.  
He was nowhere to be found.  
She took off down endless flights of stone steps, not caring that she was bare footed. Crashing through the door out into the courtyard, devastation met her eyes. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, bloodshed in every direction she looked. Horses lay wounded or dead, fallen soldiers and guards bleeding out, missing limbs, lives lost.  
Grief erupted in her.  
Where was Thranduil?  
She ran across the cobbled surface, pushing her way through crowds; people still fighting, women looking for their husbands or sons, children searching hopelessly for their parents. Every corner she turned held the same scene.  
Spotting the stables from the corner of her eye, she flew over and found Belan still inside. Belroch was missing;  
Hurling herself up onto Belan’s back with strength she didn’t know she had, she urged the horse out of her wooden home.  
“Come on girl, find your brother, find your master,” she pleaded.  
The horse complied, bolting out across the courtyard and through the gates. The stone bridge was heaving with fighting; soldiers, trolls, and bodies everywhere. Her breath caught in her throat as she searched in vain for the one who would be leading the defence of his people.  
A flash of long blond hair caught her eye, and she abruptly screamed his name. Her scream went unheard by all.  
Except him.  
He whirled around on Belroch’s back, his sword in full swing. The blade neatly took the head off a troll he had been facing, but he didn’t look back. He thundered towards her, and she kicked Belan into a run towards him.  
“Ava, you cannot be here!” he yelled over the deafening noise, as they halted face-to-face with each other. Fury blasted from his eyes.  
“I am here and I am staying!” she shouted back. “I have to be here!”  
“Get out of my sight!” he roared at her, diving in so close, she could see every single eyelash surrounding his beautiful, furious eyes. A split second later, he was gone, disappearing into the war that had broken out on the bridge to his home.  
She slid off Belan’s back, softly but urgently telling the horse to return to the stables. Unsheathing her two swords, she followed the path Thranduil had taken. Fighting off attack after attack, the bridge seemed endless. The world spun around her in a whirlpool of slaughter, blood, and death. The metallic clang of steel striking against steel deafened her, but she fought on.  
“You should not be here!” Legolas cried, as he bumped her shoulder. She glanced back to see him lining up an arrow and shooting it straight between the eyes of an advancing troll. “My father will go crazy if he finds you here!”  
“Let me worry about him,” she called back, blocking an oncoming sword before it had the chance to slice across her throat. She swung her other sword and stabbed deep into the gut of her enemy. “He already knows.”  
“And he is alright with that?” he cried incredulously, firing arrow after arrow in rapid succession.  
“No,” she shouted, crossing her swords over her chest and swinging both upwards to defend herself. “It is not important right now.”  
She lost him in the chaos that ensued.  
Advancing through the carnage, she eventually reached Thranduil, discovering he had dismounted and was on foot, doing what he did best. Using the same strategy as she had done previously, she squeezed herself through the masses to his back, having to dive underneath and around his rapidly swung swords. The tip of one of his blades sliced into her arm, drawing blood from the deep gash instantly.  
He glanced over his shoulder at her for an instant, a look of horror on his face.  
“I shall live,” she shouted, pressing her back tightly against his and taking defence position.  
They fought for what seemed like hours, united as one fighting machine. Bodies fell, blood flowed freely. Ava took strength from the warrior pressed against her back, took his determination, his dedication, his energy.  
Eventually they separated, although she was unsure of exactly when that had happened or how. They had fought united, but facing their own opponents. The battle seemed to be slowing down, and victory loomed on the horizon.  
She leaned her head back for a second, trying to regain her breath and lower her adrenalin levels, when Voron charged over on horseback.  
“The King has ordered me to take you to safety,” he called.  
She threw a glance over her shoulder, to see him take down two enemies simultaneously.  
“He has given orders, m’lady,” Voron insisted. “Most of the danger has passed, and he wants you to be safe.”  
Giving Thranduil one last glance, she took a run and threw herself up on the horse behind the guard, and they sped away from the battle.  
*****

 

Voron drew the horse to a halt deep in the forest, after riding for miles. Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke.  
“The King has ordered that you do not return to Mirkwood,” he said.  
She gasped. “What?”  
He remained silent.  
She hesitated, then slowly slid off the horse, numb, and stared up at him.  
“He said there have been too many lives lost. Lost because of your presence,” he said, staring coldly down at her. “The guards are under orders to kill you if you return.”  
She shook her head, in shock at his words. “He would not say that,” she said.  
“I am sorry m’lady. The King has given explicit instructions. He does not want you in the realm, because of the trouble that is following you. His people are not safe anymore.” He turned the horse, gave her one last cold look, and sped off in the direction they had come, leaving her totally alone and lost.  
*****

 

Thranduil stood in his courtyard, stunned. Bodies covered the ground as far as the eye could see, blood pooling all around him. So many of his soldiers had died, so many who would never make it home to their families.  
He watched in silent horror as a few of his company started to remove the dead.  
Legolas bounded across the courtyard, breaking him out of his trance-like state of shock.  
“Are you alright, Father?” he asked, touching his arm. “Where is Ava?”  
Thranduil’s head snapped up. “I sent her back,” he said.  
His son shook his head. “She did not return. She was fighting out there.”  
His father’s face changed.  
“The last time I saw her, Voron was helping her onto his horse,” Legolas said. “I assumed he was bringing her back here, on your orders.”  
“No,” he gasped, grief closing in on him fast. He had issued no orders, save that to which he had issued to her, and she had ignored. He had not even seen Voron out in battle. “No. I did not give him orders.”  
Legolas looked worried. “She must be around here somewhere. We will find her,” he said.  
Thranduil’s anger seemed to take a life of its own. He marched away, his son following after him. Storming down a passageway, he knocked a guard aside who stood in his way. Anger radiated from every pore, and anyone who hindered him was liable to pay the price with his or her life.  
“There he is! He is over there!” Legolas cried, catching sight of the guard.  
Thranduil flew over to him at lightning speed, grabbing the smaller man around the throat. “Where is she?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Where have you taken her?”  
“Away from here,” Voron gasped, struggling against his King’s iron grip. “She has brought endless trouble, no good can come from her!”  
“That is not for you to decide!” Thranduil roared. “Where is she? What did you do to her?”  
“I would not touch her,” the guard hissed. “You are welcome to her!”  
Thranduil whipped his sword out and pressed the blade tightly against his throat.  
“Father. We need to find out where she is,” Legolas said, putting a calming hand on his father’s.  
Ice blue eyes burned with murderous hatred for the man he had employed for years. “Tell me where she is,” he growled.  
Voron had the nerve to smirk. “I left her by the northeast boundary,” he said.  
Thranduil released him, stepping back in shock. “That is close to orc territory,” he gasped. “She will die there.”  
“Probably.”  
Legolas jumped in front of his father to prevent him from killing him on the spot, as guards grabbed Voron to prevent him from trying to leave. “Go find her,” he told the furious ruler. “Deal with this filth later.”  
Thranduil panted heavily for a few seconds, before bending to Voron’s height so he was an inch away from his face. “If any harm comes to her, I will personally make your death slow and painful,” he promised.  
“Father, go!” Legolas insisted. “Now!”  
He reluctantly released the wretched guard, turning as another guard handed him Belroch’s reins. Swinging up onto the huge animal, he glanced down at his son.  
Legolas nodded his head once.  
“I will not return without her,” Thranduil said quietly.  
Legolas opened his mouth, then closed it again.  
“Either way, I will not return without her,” he said, and turned the horse.  
Legolas watched him gallop off, a heavy feeling in his heart, before he turned to imprison the guard who had betrayed his father. He didn’t know whether he would return with Ava alive, or dead.  
*****

 

Ava winced in pain, tightening the strip of cloth she had torn from her tunic around the wound in her arm. She used her free hand and her teeth to tighten the knot securely. Blood still flowed.  
Thranduil had struck her by sheer accident, but his blade had gone deep, and she was losing a lot of blood..  
But his sword had not cut as deep as his actions, she thought sadly. He had done the exact opposite of what he had originally said he would do, which was to protect her and keep her safe. She closed her eyes, allowing her tears to fall. He had turned from the object of her fascination and desire into a strong warrior and ruler on the bridge, fighting with his life to defend his lands and those who lived there. She had fought also, out of loyalty to what was dear to him, but more out of love for him.  
The realisation that he had set her free and cast her out of his life sent shockwaves of pain through her tired, exhausted body. Her tears flowed faster as she faced a future of not seeing him every day, not being able to shake her head at his arrogant swagger when he walked. Not having his ice blue eyes glare at her, or soften as they worked on developing her gift. Not feeling the heat from him as he stood close to her, touching her with only his fingertips to relax her, and unknowingly having the ability to make her do anything he wanted with that simple touch. Not seeing that arrogant smirk and raised eyebrow when he knew he was right about something.  
The pain in her heart was a thousand times worse than the agonising pains in her beaten body. She cried harder, gasping air into her lungs. Surely the peace of death would be better than this?  
*****

 

Belroch galloped for miles through the dense forest, seeming to know where his master wanted him to take him. His hooves thundered as he flew through the woods, avoiding trees, jumping rivers and streams, crossing bridges and galloping down steep slopes with the confidence only he had. The miles flew by under his steady gait.  
Thranduil eventually pulled him to a halt, twisting and turning on his back, trying to find Ava. He had sensed her close by, but somehow she had managed to block him. Panic flooded through his veins as he faced three possibilities; she had either deliberately blocked him out, done it by accident, or she was dead.  
He shook his head, breathing hard. He would not accept she was dead. He could feel she was still alive, he just did not know where she was.  
Tugging on the reins, he turned Belroch in circles, desperately scanning the woods. The horse complied, seeming to feel his master’s sorrow.  
He stopped suddenly, dropping his head to graze, as though searching for her was no longer important.  
Thranduil froze.  
Turning slowly on the animal’s back, he looked over his left shoulder.  
Ava stood no more than five or six yards from him, watching him.  
His heart thumped hard in his chest. “Ava,” he whispered, frozen in position. He slowly swung his leg round and dismounted, dropping Belroch’s reins to the ground.  
Ava did not move. The look on his face seemed to match the feeling in her heart, but she did not trust her instinct or her ability to read him in her frame of mind.  
He slowly stepped towards her, stopping instantly as she held a hand up. He was no more than two yards away.  
“Do not come closer,” she said, her voice raw.  
His lips parted. Her eyes looked dead. “You are not safe here. Why did Voron bring you here? I gave him no orders,” he said huskily. “I have not seen him since last evening.”  
She stayed silent.  
“I do not know what he told you, but you are not safe,” he said.  
“Do not pretend that you care,” she whispered. “Your problem has gone, you do not have to deal with it anymore.”  
An anguished look crossed his face, his eyebrows coming down slightly. “I do not understand,” he said. “You are close to orc territory, you will be killed if you go further.”  
She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I do not care.”  
He took a step closer. “What has happened?” he asked. “What did Voron tell you?”  
“The truth,” she said, taking a step back. “Leave me. Let me go.”  
“No,” he whispered brokenly. “I will not. I will not let you go.”  
“I do not belong to you, I am not your prisoner anymore,” she said. Her voice was husky and raw, her throat sore from crying until she thought she could cry no more.  
“You were never my prisoner!” he cried.  
She shook her head. “I was. But now I am no longer.”  
He took another step closer. “Tell me what my bastard guard said,” he pleaded, his language sending a look of shock over her features.  
She straightened her shoulders slightly. “That you had passed orders I was not to return to your lands, after all the bloodshed I have caused. Your guards are under orders to kill me if I return.”  
He shook his head in denial, breathing hard. “No. No. I have never said that,” he hissed. “I have not spoken to him since I was with you last night. That was the last time I saw him, I swear. The attack broke unexpectedly at dawn and every one of us had to defend.” He noticed the tremble in her hands that hung by her sides, the blood seeping from the bandage she had wrapped around her wound.  
The wound he had given her.  
Tears filled his blue eyes. “Voron is angry with me, he seeks revenge,” he said, his voice low. “He seeks to destroy me.”  
“Why?”  
He looked away briefly, before returning his gaze to hers. “He lusts after you, and I forbade him,” he replied softly.  
She closed her eyes, unable to take any more raw emotion cutting her heart to pieces. “Why would you do that?” she asked, opening them again and glaring at him. “Is it because I am not a Sindar elf? You would use my birthright to stop me having any chance at maybe finding happiness? What gives you the right to decide if I can be happy with someone?”  
He hung his head, silent for a few moments. When he lifted it and looked at her, the grief in his eyes took her breath away. “I could not bear to see you in the arms of another,” he whispered, a tear running down his cheek. “I would rather die.”  
The air left her and her blood seemed to drain from her. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears, which flowed instantly. She could not find words, her emotions cutting too deeply within her heart.  
Cautiously, she took a hesitant step closer to him. She could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed rapidly, she could see the pulse of his heartbeat beating like a drum on the side of his neck. She could see the heartbreak in his blue eyes.  
Lifting a hand that trembled violently, she gently placed it against his face. “I would rather die than be in the arms of another,” she whispered, her vision blurred with tears. “It has always been you. Always.”  
His arms shot around her, crushing her body against his with an iron grip. He buried his face in her hair as her arms went up around his neck, holding onto him as though her life depended on him.  
It did.  
He slowly lifted his head and gazed down at her, his tears flowing unheeded. Ice blue eyes filled with anguish held hers. “I have denied this for too long,” he whispered. “I have fought this for too long. I have pushed you away and tried to stop it, but I could not. I cannot exist without you, _Nin mel _.”__  
She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the armoured breastplate he still wore. He felt the tremble of her body as he held her, felt the fear, the exhaustion, the weariness, the heartbreak.  
Using the tip of one finger, he gently tipped her face up so she was looking at him, and slowly lowered his head to hers, placing the softest kiss against her mouth. A soft sigh left her as she responded, moving her mouth against his. Her heartbeat pounded hard as he increased the pressure of his mouth, and her lips parted, allowing him access.  
A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he lifted both hands and framed her face, holding her still as his tongue swept inside her mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders, silently pleading for support as the trembling in her body intensified.  
He slowly broke the kiss, pulling back a little and gazing into her eyes. “I love you, _Nin mel _,” he whispered. “More than anything.”__  
“And I love you,” she whispered back. “I would die for you.”  
Her words reminded him that she carried a wound that he had accidentally given her. “This place is not safe,” he said. “It is dangerous. I must get you back to safety, back to the palace. You need attention for the wound you carry.” He indicated her arm.  
She nodded, although was reluctant to break their hold, and he knew it. Dropping another soft kiss on her mouth, he spoke over his shoulder in Sindarin, and Belroch wandered over.  
Taking her hand and helping her step over the bracken and foliage, he stood behind her at the horse’s side. “May I?” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers rippling down her back.  
She turned her head, giving him a profile view of her smile. “Please,” she replied.  
His hands gently caressed her waist, before he lifted her and sat her astride his mount. He gazed up into her eyes for a few moments, almost in awe of her. “I would die for you,” he whispered, a catch to his voice. He quickly swung himself up behind her, his left arm sliding protectively around her to hold her against him.  
She leaned back against his chest, safe in his arms. He used his right hand to lift her hair back, before softly kissing her neck.  
Saying nothing, he lifted Belroch’s reins, and turned him in the direction of home.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

 

Ava’s strength was receding. She could feel it draining from her body, but said nothing. If it wasn’t for Thranduil’s arm tightly around her, she would have been unable to hold her position on Belroch’s back.  
The horse plodded along forest trails, taking his time, almost as though he knew his master’s love was injured and he needed to be gentle.  
Her head dipped forward slightly, and Thranduil’s arm tightened immediately.  
“Ava, are you alright?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she replied, forcing herself to lift her head again. “I am exhausted. I did not sleep last night, and it has been a long day.” She took comfort from the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back as he breathed.  
“You could not sleep?”  
She shook her head, instantly regretting it as the forest seemed to blur around her. “No.”  
“Was what you saw the cause?” he asked.  
Belroch waded through a stream and kept going.  
She didn’t answer at first.  
“Ava?”  
“Yes,” she finally answered.  
“Tell me what you saw,” he said, his tone gentle.  
“It does not matter now,” she said determinedly.  
He opened his mouth to pursue the matter further, but as they cleared the last of the trees and faced the meadows, dozens of his soldiers, led by Legolas, were charging towards them. He closed his mouth, thinking he would shelf the topic for later.  
Legolas reached them first, yanking on his horse’s reins to bring him to a halt. He gazed at the two, a broad smile lighting his features. “Good work, Father,” he said.  
Thranduil nodded in acknowledgement. “I told you I would not return without her.”  
“You look tired, Ava,” he said, taking in her pale colour and the exhaustion in her eyes. The soldiers gathered around, falling into place behind them, escorting them on the final part of their journey. Legolas pulled his mount to ride alongside them.  
“I just need a rest,” she answered, giving him a hint of a smile. “It has been a hard day all round.”  
He glanced at the blood-soaked bandage on her arm and met his father’s worried eyes. Twisting around on his horse, he spoke in Sindarin to one of the soldiers, sending him ahead with instructions to have someone ready to tend to Ava as soon as they arrived. The soldier complied and took off at a gallop ahead of them.  
“What is the current situation?” Thranduil asked.  
“We have done our best to bring things back to normal,” his son replied. “It will take days to right everything though. But we have done what we can for now.”  
Ava took a deep breath.  
Thranduil felt it, and softly kissed her cheek. “Do not worry, _Nin mel _. Let me worry,” he said softly into her ear.__  
She squeezed his hand in silent reply.  
Legolas watched the two from the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing around at the corners of his mouth.  
“Is something amusing you, my son?” Thranduil asked in a dry tone.  
His smile widened. “Not a thing, Father,” he answered.  
Ava didn’t join in the friendly bickering between the pair, instead concentrated on breathing and staying conscious. Her head was starting to feel fuzzy, and her arm had continued to lose blood at a steady rate.  
They finally crossed the bridge and through the gates, into the courtyard. There were crowds bustling around, everybody working in an attempt to bring order to the chaotic situation.  
As Thranduil led Belroch across the cobbled surface, silence fell. His people stopped and turned, watching their King return. Each and every person dropped to one knee and bowed their heads, in silent respect and appreciation.  
Ava smiled to herself.  
He might rule his kingdom through cold eyes and barked commands, but he had their loyalty, trust and respect.  
He stopped his horse, swinging his leg over and dismounting. Holding both hands up, he helped her to swing around, and for a second, time seemed to stand still.  
He gazed up into her eyes, his hands placed around her waist, her hands on his shoulders. She gazed down into his, a feeling of love surging through her so strongly, her heart missed a beat. He lifted her down with strength combined with a gentle touch, and took her right hand in his right. His left, he slid around her back and pulled her into his side.  
They walked through the parted crowds of people, and a chorus of cheers and applause erupted as they entered the palace. His people seemed to know where his heart lay and that he had now claimed Ava as his own.  
Legolas jumped spritely from his horse, turning him over to one of the soldiers, and followed them inside, shouting for the nurse he had requested.  
Thranduil led Ava along one of the hallways, tightening his grip on her in alarm as she stumbled. “What happened?” he asked urgently.  
She didn’t answer, as her legs gave way under her and she collapsed. His arms closed around her before she went right down, catching her and breaking her fall. Swinging her up into his arms, he turned to his son.  
“Find the nurse, find her now!” he told him, and hurried with her to her room. His heart was pounding as he kicked the door open, his blood flow much faster than it should be.  
He could not lose her, not now. Not after all they had gone through, not after finally admitting how he felt about her.  
“Ava, Ava my love,” he whispered as he lay her down on top of the bed, sitting next to her. He held her hand in one of his, using his other to lift her hair from her face. “Please do not leave me, Ava, I need you.” His eyes filled with tears.  
Legolas and a nurse burst into the room, and the older elf quickly undid the bandage around her arm.  
“This is bad,” she said, looking at her King and his son. Legolas looked worried, and Thranduil looked distraught.  
“Do not let her die,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off Ava’s face.  
The elf snorted. “I do not let people die,” she told him, opening a drawstring bag of supplies. “Especially people who make my Lord happy.” She removed the bandage completely, and began cleaning the deep gash. Blood oozed down Ava’s arm.  
Thranduil shook his head, still holding her hand tightly.  
“I do not see any infection,” the nurse murmered, pulling the edges of the wound apart and having a good look, frowning as she did so. She raised her eyes to Legolas, knowing it was useless looking at his father as he was fixated with her patient. “I can clean this and stitch it closed. We will have to apply a herbal mixture every couple of hours and keep it clean and dry, but this should heal.”  
Legolas nodded. “Just do it,” he said, and gently touched his father’s shoulder.  
The nurse used some clean linen pieces soaked in alcohol, and wiped the wound. Ava stirred and opened her eyes, the stinging pain bringing her out of her unconscious state.  
Dazed blue eyes gazed at Thranduil, who gave her a faint smile.  
“I told you I would not let you go,” he murmered.  
A ghost of a smile appeared fleetingly, then disappeared. “Let me sit up,” she said, her speech slightly slurred.  
He slid his arm across her back and gently lifted her into a sitting position. Legolas dragged a large wooden chest over, and ushered him to sit on it so he was in front of her.  
“This will hurt, m’lady,” the nurse said, pinching the ragged edges of the wound closed.  
Ava nodded, staring into ice blue eyes, which stared back. The needle dug into her flesh, and she howled.  
Thranduil gripped her hand as she squeezed his. She panted for breath, crying out in pain every time the needle punctured her arm. He leaned forwards, so his mouth was close to her ear, on the other side from the nurse, and spoke soft words in his own language.  
She instantly relaxed, hypnotised by the tone of his voice and the closeness of him. Closing her eyes, she felt herself float as she listened to his softly whispered words. The agony in her arm seemed to vanish, and the only thing she was aware of was his voice.  
Within a few minutes, the nurse finished stitching and stepped back, wiping the sweat from her brow. Inside, she had been terrified of her King’s exploding temper, but he had surprised her by remaining calm and focusing on keeping Ava settled, allowing her to tend to the wound.  
Lifting a small box of herbal mixture from her bag, she placed it on the edge of the bed. “Use this before you bandage the wound,” she advised. “Change the bandage and reapply regularly.”  
Thranduil turned his head and looked at her, a grateful look in his eyes. “Thankyou,” he said.  
“You are welcome, my Lord, m’lady,” she replied, gathering her bag together. Nodding at Legolas, she left the room, and he followed, closing the door behind him.  
Thranduil carefully lifted Ava’s legs up and settled her back on the bed, pulling a blanket over her. “Sleep, _Nin mel _,” he said softly, and gave her a tender kiss. “I shall be here when you wake.”_  
She didn’t want to close her eyes, she wanted to keep him in her line of vision. But they drifted closed against her will.  
*****_

_____ _

 

Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was the one who held her heart, sitting on the side of the bed.  
He had changed from his armour into a dark red velvet tight-fitting tunic with long sleeves, and a pair of stretch black trousers. His long legs seemed to go on forever, and she found her gaze drifting up those legs, up over a strong torso, up a long, graceful neck, past plump lips, and into ice blue eyes.  
He smiled.  
Her stomach did flip-flops.  
“Better?” he asked.  
She smiled in return. “Yes,” she replied. “I guess I lost a little too much blood or something.”  
His smile faded, and he looked away, a frown coming down over his eyes.  
“Hey,” she said.  
He turned back, trying to hide the frown.  
She raised an eyebrow in reproach. “Talk to me.”  
“What would you like me to talk about?” he asked, innocently.  
“Stop it. What’s wrong?”  
He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, before sighing quietly and looking away again. “I wounded you,” he said.  
“And your point is?” she questioned. She pushed herself into a sitting position. “Look at me.”  
He reluctantly looked back.  
“That was a war going on out there,” she told him. “People were being wounded everywhere I looked. People were dying. So I caught the edge of your blade – it is no big deal. I did what I had to do, and that was to defend your back. I would do it again, so do not even look at me like that.”  
He lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. “I should have been protecting you, not wounding you,” he whispered.  
“I am fine,” she insisted. “You were the only person on my mind, I had to be with you, wherever you were out there. God...I was so worried...I could not find you for a long time.” She shook her head, taking a deep breath against the painful memory of the anguish that took over her as she fought to find him.  
“You should not have been out there,” he said. “You are too precious.”  
“And you are not?” she returned.  
“A King will always lead his army in battles,” he said.  
“And the one who loves him will always be at his side,” she reminded him. “No matter how hot-headed or stubborn that King happens to be.”  
Beautiful blue eyes held hers, and she smiled. Leaning towards him, she lifted her mouth to his, needing his touch, his kiss. A whimper escaped as his mouth touched hers in a warm caress. Opening her mouth under his, she welcomed his tongue and slid her arms around his neck. His arms went around her, pulling her against him.  
Stars burst to life behind her closed eyelids. He deepened the kiss, using more pressure, more urgency. Her breathing accelerated, her heartbeat pounded against her ribs. Her tongue danced with his, her body tingling in sexual awareness and arousal. She groaned in pleasure as his mouth left hers and blazed a trail of fire along her cheek and down her neck. His hands came around her waist and lifted to her breasts, squeezing them, and she cried out in need.  
He kissed his way back to her mouth, where she hungrily kissed him back. Dragging himself from her, glazed eyes stared down into hers.  
“We will finish this later,” he whispered huskily. “As much as I desire to have you right now, there are things I have to do first.”  
She nodded, dazed and disorientated. Gently caressing his cheek with her hand, she said, “Do what you have to do.”  
He turned his head, placing a kiss in the palm of her hand and holding it tightly in his. Taking a determined deep breath, he pulled away from her and rose to his feet. “I have to meet with my guards,” he told her. “I shall send for you?”  
She nodded, sliding off the bed and standing in front of him. “I will be ready.” Standing on her toes, she gave him another kiss. “Go – be a King.”  
He walked over to the door, turning and looking at her over his shoulder. “Soon, _Nin mel _,” he said.__  
She frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”  
“It means _my love _,” he replied, opening the door.__  
“But...you called me that a long time ago, the day you were attacked by the trolls,” she whispered.  
His lips curved in his trademark arrogant smile. “I know,” he said, and went out, closing the door behind him.  
*****

_____ _

 

Ava felt refreshed as she wandered through the massive hall. She had bathed and was dressed in fresh, clean attire, which helped her feel better. She had chosen a dress for once, doubting that she would be back in battle for a while. It was peach silk, and clung to her curves as the long skirt swirled around her ankles. Her bare feet made no noise as she padded along the stone floor.  
Thranuil watched her approach, sitting high up on his throne, one knee crossed over the other, arms sprawled out in a casual pose.  
If she didn’t know any better, she would never have known he was about to face his nemesis.  
Coming to a halt, she gazed up at him.  
He slowly raised a hand and beckoned her with one finger, so she ascended the steps.  
Taking her hand, he pulled her towards him as he leaned forward, and kissed her. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, passion sparkling in his eyes.  
“Thankyou,” she whispered, caught in his hypnotic spell.  
He ran his fingertips through the length of her hair, watching the silken strands settle back against her body. As he lifted his eyes to hers, a spark shot through her.  
“When I take you to bed, you will touch the stars,” he promised, his velvet tone low. “I will make you feel things you have never dreamed of.”  
A jolt jerked through her, and her cheeks flushed.  
“The guards are on their way,” he said, glancing over her shoulder. He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, reluctantly releasing her.  
She smiled and turned back down the steps. Glancing at him once she reached the bottom, she saw her cold, ruthless ruler was back in place.  
The guards advanced towards the throne, dragging a furious, bedraggled Voron between them. Releasing him, they pushed him forward, where he glared up in rage.  
“Have you anything to say for yourself?” Thranduil spoke.  
Ava’s insides melted. His arrogance was back in full force. She turned, keeping her back to his prisoner.  
“How can you treat me this way?” Voron shouted. “I have given you years of loyalty! Years of my life!”  
“Yes, and you annoy me,” Thranduil replied dryly. His tone changed. “And you betrayed me.”  
“Everyone’s life is in danger!” Voron insisted. “Your life is in danger! This...woman has brought nothing but darkness to our door!”  
“My door,” he corrected, narrowing his eyes. “And she has not brought darkness. You do not need to know what she has brought. Only that you can never have it.” He smirked with evil intent.  
“I would not take it!” the disgraced guard spat. “No man with any self respect would go near it!”  
Thranduil rose, his anger clearly visible. “You do not disrespect her,” he warned.  
The hair on the back of Ava’s neck stood up at the underlying tones.  
“If you take her into your bed, you disrespect your dead wife!” Voron shouted.  
Ava gasped in horror. She turned eyes filled with grief up to him, but saw only fury.  
He advanced down the steps, circling his prisoner slowly, his hands held behind his back. “You know nothing,” he hissed. “You do not know of my dead wife, you do not know of the love I feel for Ava.”  
“You can never be with her, she is a Silvan elf,” Voron replied.  
“Yes, that she is,” he said smoothly. “And it makes no difference at all. I just did not want you to have her.”  
Voron spluttered in rage. “But Sindar elfs cannot be with Silvans!”  
“I can do what I want,” Thranduil said, still circling. “I make the rules, therefore I can break them.” He shrugged nonchalantly.  
“She is poison,” the prisoner hissed. “Evil poison. Let the trolls have her. I should have taken her to them myself!”  
He recoiled in fright as Thranduil swooped down on him, stopping a hair’s breadth away from him. “I should kill you myself!” he growled, fury blazing in his eyes. “Maybe I should take your poison away, take your head off.” He walked backwards slowly, still with his hands behind his back. “Or maybe I should have my love take it off for me.”  
Voron glanced at her, and she held his gaze.  
“She does not have what it takes,” he said.  
“Oh, but I think she does,” he corrected him. “She has taken many lives in battle, on two occasions at my side. I know what she is capable of.”  
Vodor stood in silence for a few moments. “I could have made her happy!” he burst out eventually. “I could have given her a good life! What can you give her that I cannot? You are just a man, like me, and no title can change that.”  
Ava shook her head, not really believing how deranged he sounded. Nobody could turn so toxic through true love. He did not love her; he held a fantasy that was far from reality.  
“What can I give her that you cannot?” Thranduil murmered, sliding a glance at her. She met his eyes and lifted one eyebrow slightly in silent reproach. She knew where his mind was. “Devotion. Love. Respect. Commitment. Trust. Guidance. Support. Do I need to go on?”  
The prisoner fell into an angry silence.  
“I will decide your punishment in my own time,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can enjoy the hospitality of the dungeons until such time.” He nodded once to the assembled guards, who grabbed him and dragged him back through the hall.  
He turned to Ava, who had stayed quiet throughout the exchange. Frowning, he thought she looked a little paler than she had previously. He stepped over to her, turning her face so she would look at him.  
Realisation dawned on him. “Do not take into account his words,” he said. “The past has gone. The future is still to come. Trust in me, and leave your doubts behind you, where they belong.”  
His ability to read her astounded her. Voron had touched a sore point by mentioning his wife, and he knew it. He also knew he needed to reassure her and make her feel valued.  
“Do you read my mind?” she asked, half joking.  
He smirked, making the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. “No. I do not need to. I read you. I know your every thought – you show them through your eyes.”  
Her eyes closed as he lowered his head, touching his soft mouth to hers. Again, the floor seemed to tilt and turn beneath her feet. Sliding her hands up his arms, she held on to his biceps, feeling the muscles tense and flex.  
“I think it is time to eat,” he murmered, drawing back slowly. “Then I think I promised you a journey. To the stars.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature content.

CHAPTER TEN

 

Ava finished freshening up and wrapped a grey silk robe around herself. Her nerves were stretched taut, her equilibrium as unsettled as it had ever been. Tightening the sash around her waist and taking a deep breath, she left the warm rock pool.  
Thranduil reclined on the couch, waiting for her. His ice blue eyes met hers as he turned his head in her direction, the look in the depths taking her breath away.  
He did not speak. He remained as still as a statue, watching her approach.  
She stopped in front of him, gazing down into his eyes.  
A thousand unspoken words passed silently between them.  
Very slowly, he stood. Towering over her, she held his gaze. He was so close she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  
“Finally,” he said, his velvet voice caressing every inch of her.  
She smiled, her body trembling with both nerves and desire.  
He slowly lowered his head to kiss her, and she saw his teeth clench. Maybe he was nervous too? she thought.  
Her mouth opened automatically under his, inviting his tongue. Bolts of need coursed through her at the sensual and intimate touch, sparks of fire blasting to life. He took his time, drawing out the kiss, before she felt his arms slide around her waist, pulling her against him.  
His breathing changed.  
So did hers.  
She crossed her hands behind his neck, holding him tightly to her. He tangled his fists in her hair, twisting and turning as he deepened the kiss. His mouth caressed hers with increasing desire, increasing urgency. She accepted everything he put into it, silently begging for more.  
Her head fell back with a gasp as he kissed down her neck, biting the soft flesh. Sharp teeth nipped, and his warm tongue soothed the bitten areas. She clutched his shoulders, her knees unable to support her. The desire flushed through her entire body, rendering her helpless. Her breath came in pants as she struggled to regulate her air intake.  
“I think my love has some pressure she needs to release,” he whispered, kissing back to her ear.  
“I know she does,” she replied, smiling as his mouth found hers again.  
He lifted her off her feet and slid her legs around his waist, making her groan at the intimate contact. “Then we will release it,” he said, still in that low, husky whisper. Carrying her across the floor, he leaned over and placed her on the bed, bringing his weight down on his elbows on either side of her. Her arms remained around him, holding him as tightly against her as she could.  
He eventually broke the kiss and lifted himself slightly, his eyes holding hers as he untied the sash on her robe. As he peeled the edges apart, she started to feel nervous again. His eyes lowered, and her full breasts seemed to swell under his gaze.  
“Beautiful,” he murmered, trailing his lips down her neck again. Her eyes closed as he moved lower, his warm hands sliding up her sides. She moved impatiently as he cupped them, slowly dragging his thumbs across her nipples. She bucked under him, pleasure arcing across her abdomen and gathering between her legs.  
He placed gentle kisses on the mounds of flesh; soft little butterfly kisses designed to arouse her even further. Grasping his head, she arched her back, desperate to feel his mouth on her.  
He smiled to himself. His little fiery elf was desperate for him, and the pleasure that only he could give her. He was rewarded by a deep cry from her as he circled her nipple with his tongue in decreasing circles, eventually drawing it into his mouth. Her legs thrashed under him, but he pinned her body to the soft bed. “Patience, _Nin mel _,” he whispered, turning his attention to her other nipple and giving it the same attention.__  
She panted hard, the moisture between her legs soaking her. He was making her feel things she had never felt before, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.  
She needed him.  
All of him.  
Her fingers couldn’t seem to function effectively as she pushed his robe from his shoulders, revealing strong muscles and warm flesh. Her hands explored his shoulders, his arms, and along his back, while he continued to tease her breasts.  
His strong hands swept down her body, caressing her waist, her thighs, her calves, her feet, before drifting back upwards and cupping her buttocks, grinding her hard against him.  
He raised himself back up, taking her mouth with a bruising hunger. Her fingers tangled in his hair and held him, kissing him back with the same desperation and hunger.  
“I need you, _Nin mel _,” he whispered harshly, flames of blue fire burning in his eyes. “I do not think I can wait.”__  
She twisted her legs around him, pushing the silk robe off, as he pulled hers completely from her. His warm flesh burned against hers, as they clung to each other. She lifted her hips and pushed against him, frantically seeking him to complete her. He interlocked his fingers with hers, holding her hands down on either side of her head against the bed.  
A moan of sheer lust and passion tore itself from her throat as she felt him pressing against her, hard and heavy and seeking to be inside her. He started to push into her, a deep groan rumbling through his chest as her hot, wet flesh gripped him. Her body lifted beneath his, pulling his hard flesh deeper.  
An agonising pain tore through her and she cried out, burying her face against his neck, panting hard.  
He froze.  
Thoughts flew through his head, but he had no time to process them or make sense of them as she moved, crossing her feet over his thighs and urging him deeper still. She flexed her knees, the strength in her legs holding him in a vice grip.  
Squeezing his fingers hard in hers, she sank her teeth into his neck, crying out in pleasure as he moved within her, her body working hard to get used to the size of him. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, his body fighting to regain control which he had lost a long time ago. Her lips moved up to his ear and across his cheek, searching for his. Finding his mouth, she met his kiss with the same savage passion that he had, as her body moved in perfect synchronisation with his.  
The room spun on its axis as he rolled over with her, giving her dominant position astride him. His hands roamed restlessly up and down her back, marvelling at the softness of her skin, as she moved on him. Her knees tightened against his hips as she rose and fell, her breasts rubbing against his chest. Her hands were everywhere; touching, teasing, caressing.  
The sensations were too much for him. Tilting his head back, he groaned a long, low rumble as she pressed hot, urgent kisses on his neck, her movements becoming faster, taking him deeper. He flipped her back over onto her back, gyrating his hips in a circular motion as he thrust into her. Every nerve ending in her body tensed, the pleasure mounting higher and higher. He tried to slow down, but the feel of her in his arms and her moans of lust and desire fuelled him harder.  
He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in her neck, trying desperately to make it last. Ava’s cries of passion changed; became more frantic, more high-pitched. She dug her fingers into his arms, and tightened her legs around him. Her entire body tensed and suddenly she exploded with a scream, panting and gasping into him as he ground his mouth against hers. He rocked hard into her orgasm, desperate for his own completion. The muscles across his back and down his spine stretched tight, the peak of pleasure just out of reach. The rapid contractions of her internal muscles around him pushed him over, and he exploded into her, collapsing breathless against her.  
The minutes ticked by, the two of them sweating and panting for breath as they lay entangled in each other. Neither felt the need to move, and neither of them wanted to move away from each other.  
Eventually, he lifted his head and softly kissed her cheek, to discover she had drifted into unconsciousness. A loving smile curved his lips as he gently lifted strands of her hair away from her face, lightly caressing her cheek as he did so. She turned her head towards his hand in her sleep, nuzzling against him and settling again.  
He dropped a tender kiss on her mouth, whispering in Sindar.  
*****

__

____

 

Ava awoke alone.  
Blinking sleep away, she ran her hand across her face, wondering if she had dreamt the previous night. A heavy ache between her legs assured her that she hadn’t.  
Pushing herself to sit up, she squinted around the room, noting the messed up blankets on the bed and her robe tossed carelessly on the floor. Reaching down, she grabbed it and shrugged into it, sliding out of the warm bed. She tied the sash around her waist and padded out onto the stone ledge.  
Thranduil sat fully clothed on the small wall. He held a peach in one hand and used a dagger with the other to slice off segments. He didn’t look at her.  
He cut a slice and put it in his mouth, chewing the soft fruit slowly as he gazed out over the forest.  
Ava’s blood ran cold.  
Folding her arms protectively around her, she hesitated before stepping past him and sitting on the wall beside him.  
He said nothing, but cut another slice of peach. He handed it to her silently, without glancing in her direction.  
She slid it off the blade and chewed it, savouring the fresh taste.  
After a few minutes had passed, he turned his head and looked down at her, his blue eyes unreadable.  
She waited.  
“You did not tell me,” he said quietly, before turning his gaze back to the trees.  
“Would it have made a difference?” she asked, after a short pause.  
Another silence filled the air.  
“Yes,” he replied eventually.  
Disappointment filled her, and her eyes stung with gathering tears.  
“It would have made all the difference,” he said on a soft sigh.  
She turned her head away from him, refusing to let him see how his words had affected her.  
Strong fingers turned her head back again. “You should have told me you had never been with a man,” he said, icy blue eyes holding her prisoner. “I should have known before.”  
Her eyebrows came down in a confused frown. “I do not see why.”  
He raised one eyebrow. “I felt the proof,” he told her. “I felt you tense in my arms, I heard your cry of pain. I did that to you.”  
She blinked hard, trying to make the unshed tears disappear.  
“Why did you hold that from me?”  
“Because I did not want to disappoint you,” she replied, turning away again.  
He frowned, puzzled over her response.  
“You have experience,” she said, turning back to him. He could see the tears just waiting to fall. “You have almost every woman in your kingdom lusting after you, in love with you, fantasising about you. You could have your pick of any of them. What do I have to offer?”  
He opened his mouth to speak, but she kept going.  
“I am not in your league, or your status,” she went on. “I am not Sindar. I do not have power or influence, I have grown up with nothing except the will to keep going. I had no sexual experience-“  
He swooped down and crushed her mouth under his, stopping her flow of words. Stunned by his reaction, her lips parted and he immediately pushed his tongue past her teeth. Lifting his hands to frame her face, he explored her mouth, taking his time and savouring the goddess who responded. He felt her body relax, felt the tension evaporate, felt her melt against him.  
Slowly lifting his head, he gazed into her eyes, a look of anguish in his own. “I have no interest in the things you are saying. Other women mean nothing to me. Wealth and power mean nothing to me. Status and influence mean nothing to me. What matters to me is _you _. I think I fell in love with you the moment you fought back against me in the forest,” he said. “Your strength, your passion, and your beauty took me by surprise. I had no idea what I was going into, _Nin mel _. You fought against me with more courage than any of my warriors, and you captured my heart the day I captured you.”____  
She blinked, her tears escaping.  
“Yes, it would have made a difference if I had known you were untouched,” he continued, stroking the pads of his thumbs under her eyes to dispel the flow of her tears. “I would have taken things slower, worshipped you as you deserve to be worshipped, made you feel special. Because you are special, and the gift that you gave me last night is special. No other man ever had that gift, and now no other man ever will. But I have it...and I was harsh in the way I took it.”  
She shook her head, tears flowing faster. “No you were not,” she said. “I cherish what we did together Thranduil, for me it was the best night of my life. If I could go back, I would not change a thing. I would not change the feeling of you in my arms, in my body, or in my heart. I have waited for you all my life, and I have no regrets.”  
He gently kissed her forehead, pulling her to lean against his chest, his arms tightening their hold on her. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head. She relaxed against him, absorbing the heat from his body, the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat soothing her frayed nerves.  
“I love you,” he murmered.  
“I love you too,” she replied. “With everything I am.”  
He pulled back from her and studied her blue eyes. “Why did you have no other?”  
She shrugged slightly. “No other ever made me feel like you do,” she told him. “Nobody made my heart and my body react this way.”  
The emotions were clear in his ice blue eyes. Love, a touch of guilt, and passion. “I never thought I could love again,” he whispered. “I thought I was destined to be alone forever...then you came along and changed everything I know. Part of me died when Legolas’s mother died, and I never thought it would come to life again. You have given life to that part of me, you have brought me back.”  
“Voron stabbed me so deeply with what he said,” she admitted, glancing wistfully out across the treetops in the distance. “I guess I felt what he said had some sort of truth to it.”  
Anger flashed across his eyes. “It did not,” he said, his tone conveying what he felt. “What he said was nonsense. He does now know what I went through, how I have felt for hundreds of years, or how I feel now. People change Ava, their emotions change, what their hearts desire changes. That is life. I have come to accept that, when I believed for centuries that it was untrue. I do not want you to think about what he said. He will pay for hurting you, amongst the other wrongs he has done.”  
“It does not change what he said,” she said. “And what maybe others are thinking but are too afraid to say.”  
He pulled back from her and turned back to cutting the peach which had been discarded at his side. “I do not care what he or any others think,” he said, deftly slicing a chunk of the fruit and handing it to her. “I do what I want.”  
She smiled, despite herself. “But you have to think of your standards, what you project onto your people,” she commented.  
His nostrils flared as he glanced at her. “What do you mean?”  
“Sindar elves cannot be with Silvan elves,” she said softly.  
“I am the King, I can do whatever I want,” he told her. “I make the rules, therefore I can break them.” His words were the exact same as when he had spoken to Voron.  
She couldn’t help but grin at his arrogance. Little did he know how much that arrogance turned her on. “Your people expect certain...what is the word...leadership? from you,” she said.  
He sunk his teeth into a slice of peach, chewing slowly as he considered what she had said. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, mesmerised.  
“Keep looking at me like that, and I will have you here on the wall,” he said, without even looking at her. He glanced at her, smirking at the colour that tinged her cheeks. “My people accept that I will do as I please. They will not question me, they will not challenge me.”  
She lifted one leg and folded it underneath her, turning to face his profile, and changing angles of the conversation. “Why did you come for me, that first day?”  
He shook his head slightly, casting his mind back to a time before she had come into his life. “An old acquaintance reached out to me,” he told her. “He told me about a trade between an elf community and a troll community, to sell one of their own for a very generous amount of gold and treasure. He asked me to intervene, and stop the trade from taking place.”  
“And you did, with no benefit for yourself?”  
He nodded, staring sadly into the distance. “Elves are abused and exploited, far beyond what I can control. This was an opportunity to cease such exploitation, and I agreed to help. I did not know the effect you would have on me.”  
She smiled sadly.  
“I then discovered what the trade was for, and who would benefit from it, and why. I realised you were the one with the gift for seeing the distant future and knew I had to protect you even more than I already had. But by then...it was too late.” Sad eyes turned to meet hers. “I had fallen in love, and fought so hard against what I was feeling. I did not want to love you. I did not want to experience love again.” He turned away again. “But you had found a way into my heart. Mithrandir told me this would happen.”  
“Gandalf?” she asked in surprise. “I have heard much about him.”  
He nodded. “He is a wise man,” he said. “However interfering.” A smile tugged at his lips as he glanced back at her. “He knew how things would be if I let fate take control. Called me pig-headed, if my memory serves me correctly.”  
She snorted in an attempt to hide her laugh, failing miserably.  
He gave her a wry look. “Eventually I realised I was not protecting you because of the prophecy, but because of my feelings for you,” he said. “That is why I started to develop your fighting skills. How could I fight to protect you to the best of my ability, if my heart was in control instead of my head?”  
“That is how I fight to protect you,” she told him.  
“You fight with your emotions, _Nin mel _. I have told you this before. Your heart rules your head. My heart had stopped ruling a long, long time ago.”__  
She lifted his hand closest to her, entwining her fingers through his. He responded instantly, strengthening the grip. “Like you said...people and their emotions change.”  
He smiled, a beautiful smile that completely transformed his face, made his eyes come even more alive. “You are important for the future of the people of these lands, but you are more important to me.”  
She inhaled deeply. “I did think about leaving,” she told him, lifting her free hand as horror filled his eyes and caressing his thigh to reassure him. “I did not think you had any feelings for me, that you were guiding me for the sake of peace in middle earth.”  
He blushed slightly. “I tried to tell myself that was why I was at your side,” he said. “But that was far from the truth. That is why I was so angry the day I was ambushed.”  
She murmered in agreement, recalling the tumble he had taken from Belroch. He saw the pain in her eyes, felt her hold on him tighten slightly.  
“Speak,” he urged softly.  
“I cannot leave the memory of you being thrown off Belroch,” she whispered. “I thought you were going to die.”  
“I will not die,” he said, giving her a smile. “I have too much to live for. I have a purpose that I did not have before.” His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand as he spoke, sending shivers through her body.  
He held her eyes, as though reading her mind, and lowered his mouth to brush over hers with the slightest touch. “We have much to live through with each other,” he whispered seductively. “Much to learn, to discover, to show each other.” His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “There are many stars for you to touch...”  
He trailed off, as she closed the minute distance between them and claimed his mouth, deepening the kiss. Letting go of her, his strong hands gripped her waist and he lifted her onto his knees, placing her astride him. She whimpered softly as he pulled her flush against him, desire flaring through her as she felt him rock hard against her.  
“I need you so much,” she whispered, her lips swollen. “I cannot think about anything else right now...”  
He kissed a trail of fire down the soft skin of her neck, murmering words in Sindar that she couldn’t understand, but found her desire growing at the sound of his velvet whispers. He gripped her hips and rocked her against his arousal, hard.  
She gasped and stiffened in his arms.  
“I thought so,” he murmered, nuzzling his way back towards her mouth. “It is too soon for you, my love.”  
She moaned in disappointment, seeking his mouth and tightening her arms around him.  
He smiled into the kiss. “I suggest you bathe; that will help,” he told her as he put a little distance between them so he could look into her eyes. “Remember last night was the first time for you – you will be sore. The next time will be better, I promise.”  
Disappointment shone on her face.  
Leaning forward again, he kissed her with so much tenderness, she felt like she was falling into a deep abyss with no way out.  
“We have forever,” he murmered. “Believe in me.”


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Taking Thranduil’s advice, Ava decided to bathe in the warm water of the rock pool, letting the water soothe and ease the burn from their night of passion. The water relaxed her, and she leaned her head back against the large stones, her eyes drifting closed.  
The next thing she knew, she opened them to find him towering above her, a look of irritation on his face.  
“It is dangerous to sleep in the water,” he said, lowering himself to his knees behind her. “You could go underneath.”  
She smiled, looking at him upside down. “I will not go under,” she assured him.  
“No, you will not, because I shall stay with you until you are finished,” he told her.  
She began to protest, but trailed off with a satisfied sigh as he started to massage the back of her neck and her shoulders. “Mmm, that feels so good,” she murmered. Her eyes closed again, but in pleasure rather than tiredness.  
“Then I shall stay,” he said in a decided tone.  
She grinned, breathing deeply, his fingers working magic on her muscles. “Do you not have King things to do?”  
“No,” he replied. “My duties for now are tending to your every desire.”  
Her blue eyes opened, and she gazed up at him.  
A mischievous smile appeared. “There is plenty of time,” he assured her. “I am more concerned with your well-being at present.” Strong thumbs worked the knots out of her muscles as he spoke.  
“I am alright,” she said, sitting up a little and sliding back, so she could lean back between his legs and rest her arms on his thighs. “What have you been doing while I have been lazy?”  
He parted his thighs to give her more room. “King things,” he quipped.  
She laughed. “Very funny.”  
“I have been out in the villages, trying to bring some sense of order,” he said, his smile fading.  
“Oh,” she murmered, dropping her gaze.  
“Do not feel responsible,” he commanded, framing her face with his hands from his upside-down position behind and over her. “Nothing could have prevented this. If I had been paying more attention, they would not have taken us by surprise.”  
“It would not have happened if it was not for me,” she pointed out.  
He leaned down and lightly dragged his mouth over hers. “What will happen, will happen,” he said. “You cannot see into the future yet, so there was nothing we could do. And that reminds me...what did you see that upset you?”  
She sighed. “I saw you, smiling, happy, then a woman take your hand,” she said. “I could not see her, just her arm and her hand. You looked so happy, so in love...and it broke my heart because I want you to be happy but I did not want that vision.”  
“Do you not see? I am happy, I am in love,” he said. “Perhaps that is why you could not see who the woman was – because it was you.” He smiled. “And I promised to let your body recover, but you will have to get out of the water, my love. The more I look at you like this, the more I want you.”  
She grinned, groaning reluctantly at the effort of moving from the very comfortable position between his legs, as he helped push her upright. He turned and lifted a towel, holding his free hand out to help her from the water as she stood.  
The blue ice in his eyes turned to blue fire. He held on to her hips as she stepped up out of the water, his lips parted as he gazed up at her in wonder from his position still on his knees. “I want you so much,” he whispered.  
Her pupils dilated, and he saw the need flare in them. Heat gathered in between her legs at the look in his eyes.  
Using one hand, he flipped the towel so that it lay on the stone floor, never taking his eyes off hers. He guided her past him and onto the towel, where she lowered herself to sit.  
“Lay back,” he said. “Close your eyes.”  
She complied. A soft sigh escaped as she felt his warm hands caressing her calves, up behind her knees, and her thighs.  
A gasp replaced it as he parted her thighs, and she trembled in anticipation, needing his touch.  
He twisted his upper body and leaned his weight on his elbows. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of her. He placed a light kiss on the inside of her thigh, followed by another further along. Then he turned his head and kissed the other one, trailing his lips over her flesh. Lust fired through his body as he kissed her moist centre, flicking his tongue over her. She cried out, arching up to his touch. She rolled her head to one side, panting as he repeated the motion. Her hips lifted as she tried to push closer against him, his mouth moving sensually against her.  
He held her open with his thumbs, rubbing his tongue over her clitoris in one long, upward stroke. Again she cried out, a low, guttural howl from deep inside her soul. He did it again. And again. And again.  
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, writhing in search of even more pleasure. Her thighs tensed and she wriggled and twisted, panting and gasping at the sensation. Her back arched, fistfuls of the towel gripped hard. Over and over he licked her, his tongue swirling around, dipping inside, going back to rub and tease her.  
He lifted one knee and draped it over his shoulder giving him better access, as he glanced up at her, his heart missing a beat. She was _breathtaking _. She had almost reared up off the floor, caught in a maelstrom of emotion, passion, and lust. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.__  
Lowering his head again, he took her higher. The cries coming from her were better than any music, better than anything he could ever have imagined. He had dreamed about doing this to her for so long, and now it was reality, he was determined to give her the time of her life.  
She thrashed and twisted, begging for release. Her head rolled from one side to the other as she panted hard, her moans sounding foreign to her ears. She’d never felt this good, ever. Her body was drenched in sweat, her muscles tensed. In between her thighs was soaked, she could feel her fluid on herself as he pleasured her.  
The sensations changed as she felt a long finger slide inside, swirling around in the wet heat.  
“Oh my God!” she cried.  
One finger became two, pumping in and out of her effortlessly in her state of arousal. His tongue continued to swirl around her clitoris, and the two sensations combined stretched her nerves to snapping point. Her thighs trembled and tensed, the towel gripped tighter.  
“You taste so sweet,” he murmered. “I want to taste more. Come for me.”  
Her senses went into overload as she climaxed, a long, drawn-out howl erupting from her. He withdrew his fingers and gripped her hips, holding her still as he licked her through her orgasm, her screams and cries accompanying her almost violent thrashing around.  
Eventually he pulled back a little, placing hot little kisses along her thighs, and she collapsed back onto the floor. Propping himself back up on his elbows, he smiled a lazy, contented smile at the sight of her.  
She lay before him like a rag doll, completely exhausted and worn out. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as she panted towards normal breathing. Her entire body seemed to jerk periodically in little after-shock spasms.  
He could have stayed there forever looking at her like that.  
Pushing himself back onto his knees, he stood up and lifted her into his arms, placing her on the bed. He quickly shed his clothing and slid in beside her, pulling the blankets over them and wrapping both his arms around her.  
“You didn’t...you know,” she whispered, lifting her head up from his shoulder and gazing at him through glazed eyes.  
“I do not have to,” he replied huskily. “I get pleasure from giving you pleasure.” He tenderly kissed her mouth. “Sleep for a little while.”  
*****

____

 

Standing on her toes, Ava wobbled slightly as she balanced on the wooden stool, searching for the ingredient Faron had requested. The high shelf was crammed with assorted boxes and containers, but nothing her eyes fell on matched what the cook was looking for.  
“Faron, we must clear through this lot and organise it a little better,” she grumbled, stretching further to the back of the store. “I will help you do it if you ask your little elf over for supper-“  
She screeched as the stool tipped off-balance. Her breath left her in a rush as two strong arms caught her, taking her weight and lowering her to the floor.  
Turning, she met Thranduil’s furious eyes.  
“Do not,” he warned, as she opened her mouth to speak. “Faron!”  
The cook appeared from inside another store cupboard, covered in flour and looking more than a little dishevelled. “My Lord,” he said, bowing his head.  
“If I find Ava in a dangerous position again, I will ensure you have one less hand to work with,” Thranduil said coldly.  
She gasped.  
“She is to be protected at all costs,” he said, before turning his ice blue eyes to hers.  
“Stop it,” she said, shocked at the venom in his voice. “I am not made of crystal. Faron, do not worry. The King speaks without thinking.”  
His eyebrows came down in an angry frown, but she smiled sweetly at him and his scowl lessened. “You do not do dangerous things,” he said.  
“Standing on a stool is not dangerous,” she replied. “I was looking for mint leaves.”  
He reached over her head and lifted a container down, handing it to her. “Then ask someone who is tall enough to reach them,” he said.  
She struggled to control the grin that threatened to appear. “Thankyou.”  
“Are you hurt?”  
“No,” she laughed, tossing the container to Faron. “Stop worrying.”  
He frowned at her, before sliding his hand under her jaw and leaning down, pressing a fierce, passionate kiss against her mouth. “You are far more precious than crystal,” he growled softly, before turning and striding out of the kitchen, his long blond hair swishing against his back and his cloak swirling around him.  
She smiled as she watched him exit, a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
“You are good for him, Ava,” Faron observed, going about his duties. “I see a side of him I have not seen before. I like it.”  
“He worries too much,” she commented. Kicking the stool aside, she closed the door of the cupboard. “But it is nice.” A mischievous grin tugged at her mouth.  
Faron rested the knife he was using to chop the mint on the worktop. “Love suits you too,” he told her. “Your union is a great one. You will achieve many great things together. You bring out the best in my Lord.”  
Her mind drifted back to a few hours previously, when he had made her scream on the floor with his clever lips and tongue. Blushing furiously, she ducked her head and proceeded to clear a space on the adjacent worktop. “He definitely makes me happy,” she said.  
“I predict a bright future,” the cook commented.  
She smiled, pouring flour onto the worktop so she could roll the dough she had prepared. “I really hope so,” she said. “I feel there will be a backlash though, because I am not Sindarin, and it worries me.”  
“Do not worry yourself Ava, the people in these lands want their King to be happy. If you bring him that happiness, they will accept you. They have already accepted you anyway, so you need not worry,” Faron said.  
“They have?” she asked, glancing over at him as she worked.  
He grinned. “I may be down here for long periods of time my dear, but I hear many things. The people are relieved the King has found someone who will be at his shoulder through his life.”  
“I do not know if they are pre-empting things,” she said. “We have not spoken of the future.”  
Faron laid his knife down on the worktop, studying her. “You do not know,” he murmered.  
She frowned, using her weight as leverage as she rolled the dough. “Know what?”  
“An elf can usually only love truly once in their lifetime,” he said. “That love lasts for eternity. For an elf to find a second chance at love, and to love so deeply...as the King loves you...your fate is sealed, Ava. My Lord will hold on to you until the stars burn out.”  
Her eyes held his as she considered his words. “I know I have never felt this way,” she admitted softly.  
“And you never will with anyone else,” he said. “You will never need to. The King has taken you to his heart, and that is where you will remain. It is how we are built. I am surprised you did not know this.”  
She shrugged, resuming her task. “My uncle did not speak to me of these things,” she told him. “I think in retrospect, he kept a lot from me. Things I needed to know.” Her thoughts went back to what Thranduil had told her regarding her parents, and wondered if it was true.  
Maybe she would never know.  
*****

 

She swung the basket of bread onto her hip a few hours later, telling her companion that she would return shortly. Leaving the kitchen, she carried it along the corridors to where Thranduil liked to eat. She flexed her toes against the stone floor as she walked, preferring to be barefoot most of the time, and let her thoughts drift over what she and the cook had spoken of earlier.  
She pushed the heavy oak door open, spotting Thranduil in deep conversation with one of his guards. Not wanting to intrude on their discussion, she went past in silence and placed the basket on the table. The two men slowly walked towards and past her, talking in Sindarin.  
She gasped inaudibly as a large, warm hand slid down her back, stopping to rest on the curve of her left buttock and giving it a tight squeeze. Flipping her head around, Thranduil and the guard continued walking, as though nothing had happened, still talking.  
He turned his head just slightly, giving her a glimpse of his profile.  
She grinned. Payback was going to be a demon, if this was the game he had chosen to play.  
Soon afterwards, she sat at the wooden table, feet crossed under her seat. Legolas sat to her left, and Thranduil sat directly across from her, and they were discussing her training strategy as they ate.  
She took a drink of water, motioning with her free hand as she swallowed. “I think I should spend at least double the time on practice,” she said. “Maybe not taking up so much of your time-“ she glanced at Legolas “-as I can do target practice alone.”  
“Just be careful you do not push yourself too hard,” Thranduil advised, his eyes on his food as he tore it. “If you spend all day every day doing the same thing, you may lose your passion for it.”  
She shrugged in semi-agreement, silently lifting one foot from the floor. “Maybe. I suppose I will not know until I put the extra time in.” The sole of her foot graced his foot.  
His eyes lifted to her for a split second, before lowering again.  
“I do not mind helping you more,” Legolas said. “Pass the wine please, Father.”  
She slid her foot up the inside of Thranduil’s calf, slowly caressing the side of his knee high boot. “It is getting colder though, I find myself lazy to go out sometimes,” she admitted, laughing.  
“The winters can be long and harsh,” Legolas agreed. “Why not do extra sword practice instead? You can do that inside, and keep warm.”  
Her toes ascended, reaching the soft, stretchy fabric of trousers stretched tightly over muscled thighs. The sole of her foot caressed the warm, hard surface, her toes flexing. “I could, I suppose,” she said. “And I also want to help Faron tidy his work space. I have never seen anything so disorganised – how he finds anything, I do not know.”  
She felt muscles tense and contract under the soft flesh of her foot.  
Legolas laughed. “I have been in his kitchen once, that was enough,” he said. “Utter chaos.”  
“Yes. I told him I would find the time to go through everything with him,” she said. Her foot lifted higher, coming to rest on the huge bulge in between Thranduil’s legs. A little shocked at finding him so aroused, she flicked her eyes up to his, to find him smirking with devilish intent at her. “Do you mind if I spend some time helping him?”  
“Not if that is what pleases you,” he replied smoothly, lifting his wine and taking a sip.  
She pushed her heel against the seat of his chair, rotating her toes against him, squeezing and flexing. He throbbed in response, his eyes gleaming as he stared at her. “Then I will speak to him about a suitable time,” she concluded. The temptation to smile was strong, as he silently opened his thighs wider, giving her more room. She increased the pressure, a surge of satisfaction rippling through her as she felt his hips nudge forwards slightly.  
“Do not let him take advantage of your good nature,” he told her. “I imagine he would be quite happy for you to be a full-time aide.”  
“Not at all,” she responded, sipping her water. His thigh muscles trembled on either side of her foot. “I quite enjoy helping him from time to time.”  
“I think Belan misses you,” Legolas remarked. “I took her for some exercise this morning, and she was not herself.”  
Thranduil’s eyes closed briefly as she pushed harder against him.  
“I will go and see her later today,” she replied. She smiled. “I love her to bits. She has kept me safe.”  
“She always will,” Thranduil said, his icy stare daring her to look away.  
She grinned, putting her water back onto the table. “I have finished,” she announced, withdrawing her foot and standing up. “If you’ll both excuse me?”  
With that, she turned and left the table, still grinning to herself as she walked through the hall towards the door. Just before she reached it, she turned her head in a slight motion, just enough for him to glimpse her profile. She knew he was watching her; she could feel the burn of his eyes as he stared at the sway of her hips as she walked.  
*****

 

Leading Belan by her reins, Ava walked her back into the stable, pulling the door closed as the horse entered. Speaking in soft tones to her, she slid the bridle off her and hung it up on the far wall, rubbing her mane as she did so. She smiled as Belan lowered her head, expecting the customary kiss she knew she would receive.  
“Thankyou for a beautiful ride, baby girl,” she whispered, giving her the obligatory kiss. “I will see you tomorrow.”  
She turned away and walked towards the door.  
She screamed as strong arms grabbed her and dragged her into the shadows, covering her mouth and throwing her down onto the bales of hay.  
“You are evil,” Thranduil whispered, holding her down as he wriggled in between her legs and sank his teeth into her neck. “You have no idea what you did to me during our meal.”  
She laughed, her body responding to him as he ground his hips against hers, his sharp teeth biting into her soft flesh. “I knew exactly what I was doing,” she said. “And I loved every second of it.”  
“As did I,” he panted.  
She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him up, closing in on his mouth. “Mmm,” she murmered in contentment as his tongue plunged into her mouth with demanding force that would not be denied. His hands swept up to her breasts, caressing her through the fabric of the top she wore. She groaned in disappointment. “Not enough,” she gasped.  
“More, my lusty little elf?” he teased, tearing the fabric. His mouth travelled down over the flesh he had just exposed, closing over her nipple and sucking on it hard.  
Her back arched as she moved under him, desperate to mate with him. Flipping her legs up, she crossed her ankles around his back, pulling him hard against her, and rotated her hips against him.  
She whimpered as his hand closed over her other breast, gently kneading and squeezing her, while his tongue flicked across her other nipple and sucked on it. She slid her hands to the warm flesh of his neck, pushing downwards and parting the fabric of his tunic. Sparks surged through her as she got to his chest, the rapid thumping of his heart drumming under her hands.  
“I want you,” he whispered, kissing his way down her stomach. “I want all of you. Now.”  
He stiffened, before lifting himself from her and cursing in Sindarin. Taking her hand, he pulled her roughly to her feet and wrapped her torn top over her as the stable door burst open.  
“Father, I – ooops,” Legolas started, ending with an embarrassed giggle.  
Ava turned away slightly, trying to keep her expression blank.  
“What?” Thranduil demanded, irritation and frustration abundant in the single word.  
His son shook his head as though trying to clear it, and coughed. “The council have called a meeting and are requesting you attend,” he said.  
Thranduil closed his eyes, angry at being interrupted. “Tell them I will be with them soon,” he muttered.  
Legola nodded, and disappeared with an apologetic smile to Ava.  
Thranduil glared at her as the door closed, and she burst out laughing. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she grinned up at him.  
“Go do your King things,” she advised. “We can catch up later. You need to take care of other things first.”  
“I do not know that I can concentrate,” he said, running a hand through her hair. “I seem to be a little uncomfortable.”  
She dropped one hand and caressed the swollen bulge through his trousers, making him jerk against her. “This will keep,” she promised, standing on her toes and pressing her mouth against his. “Go. Find me when you are free.”  
He reluctantly pulled away from her, shaking his head as he marched from the stable. She watched him leave, grinning as she folded her arms across her chest. Glancing over at Belan, she laughed out loud as the horse snorted softly and turned away.  
“Do not laugh at me,” she told her.  
The horse snorted again.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Ava spent more time developing both her sword-fighting and her archery skills, becoming more determined to master both arts. Thranduil and Legolas guided her, stopping her when she showed signs of exhaustion and frustration. Both explained that she would achieve nothing unless she was energised and focused. Reluctant to admit to any man that she was in the wrong, she sometimes pushed a little further, which Legolas allowed to a point, but his father would not.  
A few days passed uneventfully.  
“There is something I need to talk to you about,” she murmered, her back muscles rippling in delight as his fingertips drew lazy circles on her bare skin.  
“What is wrong?” Thranduil asked. He lay back with his eyes closed, content to stay buried deep inside her as she lay sprawled on top of him, her eyelashes tickling his chest as she blinked.  
She lifted her head. “Something is wrong,” she said.  
His eyes opened. “What?”  
“I do not know,” she replied. “I just have this really strong feeling, like apprehension, dread, something like that. I do not know where it is coming from or why, or what it means.”  
He gazed down at her, his expression unreadable. “You are safe here, _Nin mel _. Nothing will harm you.”__  
“That is not my concern,” she said. She lifted a hand and trailed it through his long hair, allowing the silken strands to drop back onto his bare shoulder. “I do not understand this feeling.”  
“How long has it been with you?” he asked.  
“Since sunrise yesterday,” she admitted.  
“You should have spoken to me sooner,” he said. “We have not worked on your development for a few days.”  
“We have not had the time,” she said, with a smug smile.  
He smiled back. What she had said was correct. They had spent their days practicing her fighting skills, and their nights in bed making love to each other. Very little else had been achieved. “We will address it in the morning,” he promised. “Maybe I need to make you think of something else to take your mind off your worries,” he added in a soft murmer, pulling her up his body so she was level with him.  
The following day, she was bringing Belan back in from a ride when she spotted him striding over the courtyard towards her. She turned Belan to face his approach.  
Ice ran through her veins as she realised he was in full armour.  
He lifted his arms, lifting her from the horse. “I know what has been troubling you,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the palace as one of the guards took Belan back to the stables. “I received word from one of my messengers while you were out.”  
She stopped, tugging him to a halt. “Tell me,” she said. “I need to know.”  
“Your uncle has been seen advancing into Mirkwood,” he told her. “He is accompanied by several hundred orcs.”  
Ava’s blood ran cold. She knew of her lover’s history with the orc armies, and how close to death he had come on several occasions. History lived on, whether she had been in his life at the time or not, and she knew every detail, whispered between villagers or spoken about openly by the soldiers who served under him.  
“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her, taking both her hands in his. “This will be dealt with, and fast. You will come to no harm. You have my oath.”  
She shook her head. “I am not concerned about myself,” she said, irritated. “You just do not understand.”  
His eyes softened. “I do,” he said softly. “Believe me my love, I do understand.”  
Tears pricked at her eyelids. “Then stay here,” she pleaded. “Stay where I know you are safe.”  
He inhaled deeply. “I cannot,” he told her. “I lead my armies. That is my rightful place, my obligation, my birthright.”  
She pulled her hands free from his. “Maybe you should pay attention to what I can feel,” she said. “I am not feeling this without good reason.”  
He pursed his mouth. “I know,” he said. “I must protect my people, and I must protect you. I have no choice.”  
“You always have a choice!” she said, angry now. “You keep saying you make the rules, you can break them. Now I am asking you to break them. I am asking you to listen to me.”  
Sad eyes gazed into hers. “Do not put me in this position. Do not make me choose which is more important; my place as King and protector of my people, or my place as your lover who would die for you. Please.”  
The tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Turning away from him, she walked away and went back to the stables to dismiss the guard and settle Belan herself.  
His heart broke a little as he watched her go.  
Angry, hurt tears finally escaped once she was in solitude with the horse, who seemed to sense her heartbreak. Belan nuzzled into her shoulder, seeking reassurance and trying to offer comfort. She wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, crying into her soft mane.  
*****

____

 

By the time she left the sanctuary of Belan’s silent company, Thranduil had left the palace. So had half his army.  
Grief tore through her as she wandered the empty hallways.  
He had not done the one thing she had asked him to do. He had turned his back on her heartfelt request and did what he thought was expected of him. Even though she understood his status as King, she understood the value of his life even more, and deep down inside she was terrified she had seen him for the last time.  
The last time should not have ended the way it had.  
Finding he had left the other half of his army at the palace to protect her, she pulled on her devious side and followed her own instinct rather than his experience. Finding a way out from under the guards’ noses wasn’t an easy task, but she managed after a few failed attempts and refused to listen to the voice of reason in her head.  
Thranduil had always said she fought with her emotions and not her head, and she was proving him to be correct. An inner voice calmly told her to stay and await his return, while the beating of her heart told her to be at his side, as he would need her.  
She chose the beating of her heart.  
Belan, once again, proved to be in perfect tune with her, and she felt such a strong bond with the animal. Convinced the horse had a stronger sixth sense than her own, she rode her through endless woodland in search of Thranduil.  
She arrived at the half-resurrected site of Lake Town, where the populated area appeared to be in the middle of being raised back to its former status. Pulling Belan to a stop, she cast her eye over the village before her.  
“Miss Ava, if I am not mistaken,” a voice said behind her.  
She turned.  
A pleasant-faced man stood, leaning on a long-handled axe, assessing her with a knowing smile.  
“The name is Bard,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to her. “King Thranduil and I share an interesting history.”  
She smiled, sliding off Belan’s back and taking his hand in acceptance. “I have heard much about you,” she said. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you.”  
“No m’lady, the pleasure is all mine,” he assured her. “Word does not do you justice. I can see why the King is so happy.” His eyes sparkled as he grinned.  
She blushed. “Do you know of his whereabouts?” she asked.  
He frowned. “No. Why? Is something wrong?”  
She bit her lip, contemplating her answer. “Yes,” she said finally. Quickly outlining the details, she ended by telling him he had vanished with half his army.  
Bard studied the ground at his feet as she finished talking. “You know you will infuriate him if you go through with this,” he said quietly, lifting his eyes to hers. “He would give his life to keep you safe.”  
“I know,” she whispered, feeling her tears gathering again. “But I fear for his safety, not mine. This is such a dark, evil force I can feel. His life is more important than mine.”  
Bard studied her. “Oh my. You really have a lot to learn about him,” he said, shaking his head. “If he is facing the orcs, I can guarantee there is only one way they will enter Mirkwood. But please consider all the options before you do this.”  
“I have,” she replied.  
Shrugging in defeat, he tossed the axe aside and whistled. “Two peas in a pod,” he muttered before turning to her. “I can have my people assembled in a short time. We will accompany you and support what you are going to do.” A beautiful shire horse trotted over as he spoke.  
“Thankyou,” she said. “I am indebted to you.”  
“Not at all,” he replied. “King Thranduil has helped my people many times. His generosity is not something that can be forgotten around here. Come – I will make sure you have something to eat and drink while I arrange everything.”  
Knowing deep inside herself that this man was loyal to Thranduil and that she could trust and rely on him, she hoisted herself back up onto Belan. The amazing animal had adopted the habit of going down on her forelegs so she could climb onto her back.  
Within a relatively short time, she was riding away from Lake Town, accompanied by Bard and several hundred of his townspeople.  
Bard rode alongside her, telling her in great detail what had transpired in the battle when Thorin had reclaimed the mountain. She was so wrapped up in his tale, part of her worry eased enough for her to relax a little.  
“The sickness could have destroyed Thorin completely,” she commented, ducking under a low tree bough.  
“He was lucky,” Bard told her. “He pulled through at the last minute and had an opportunity to redeem himself and do the right thing. Others before him did not.”  
“Such a sad loss,” she murmered. “Sometimes I feel like the whole world is ruled by greed.”  
“For the most part, it is,” he answered. “Look at your own situation. Your uncle, for lack of a better word, is the same. He is motivated by greed, and the knowledge that his actions could mean the end for middle earth has no bearing.”  
“What do you mean, for lack of a better word?” she asked curiously.  
He slanted a sideways look at her.  
“So the book is true,” she said, almost to herself.  
“It is a strong possibility,” he said. “The only person who knows for sure is your uncle. Maybe one day you will get your answers. Only he can tell you the truth. Just be sure you are ready to hear it if and when it comes.”  
She frowned in confusion at his words, but didn’t push any further as one of his messengers returned. He had sent some riders ahead, scouting for signs of a battle.  
“Sir, we have found them,” the man panted, pulling on his mount’s reins as the horse pranced restlessly. “They are about four miles up ahead.”  
Ava’s heart missed a beat.  
“How bad is it?” Bard questioned.  
The messenger shook his head, before turning and taking off again at a gallop in the direction he had come.  
Ava kicked her heels against Belan’s side, following at the same pace, knowing Bard and his army was right on her tail.  
They approached the edge of the forest, where the open valley lay sprawled below them. Before them, a horror scene was unfolding.  
Thranduil and his soldiers were outnumbered, and falling fast. The orcs were in full force, slaughtering everything within their reach, be it elf or animal. Rivers of blood trailed along the valley floor around the dead.  
Ava took off towards the valley, as a shout from Bard fell on deaf ears. Knowing he would follow, she lay low along Belan’s back to streamline her approach and get her there quicker. Drawing her swords, she swiped to her left and right as two orcs advanced on her, and they dropped instantly. Rage burned through her; rage that Thranduil’s life was at stake and rage that he hadn’t listened to her.  
She charged into the midst of the carnage, whipping her weapons left, right, behind her, and over her head, adding to the body count and dropping the enemy without a second thought. Belan carried her through the heaving masses without guidance, instinctively taking her towards her master.  
Unaware of her presence, Thranduil battled relentlessly, taking down everything that came within his reach. He made an impressive sight; his face masked with a cold expression as he twisted and turned, bringing his ability and skill to the fore.  
Orcs fell in endless succession as his body moved, an almost poetic beauty to his movements.  
Ava whipped her sword in front of his face as an arrow shot through the air, deflecting the missile off the steel.  
Shocked eyes met hers as she twisted round and slayed the orc who was advancing behind him with his sword raised to strike.  
She turned Belan without a word, continuing her attack on the evil around her, as Thranduil gathered himself together and continued to fight. Neither of them spoke, the carnage around them too dense to exchange words. The armies fought with their lives against outstanding odds, Bard leading his people into the heart of the battle and holding their own.  
Ava shifted on her horse’s back and dodged the deadly blow from a sword, the steel whistling past her ear too close for comfort. She lifted her blade and plunged it deep into the heart of the orc who had aimed it at her, withdrawing it as he sank to his knees and fell to the ground.  
The next thing she knew, an arrow pierced her chest, knocking her from Belan. She screamed in agony as she crashed to the ground, the horse’s hooves kicking her as she pranced around in panic, searching for her mistress.  
Thranduil roared, terror washing over him. He had seen the arrow impact, seen her body twist and fall from the horse. He shouldered through battling opponents, trying to reach her. He could see her writhing in agony, blood pouring down her body, and his heart thudded violently against his ribs. Panicked horses stamped their hooves too close to her, orcs were closing in on her, and everything around him faded out.  
Ava screamed as she tried to roll over, her strength fading fast. She looked up to see an orc standing over her, his blade raised high above his head.  
Thranduil howled like an animal, a sound that she had never heard before, as the blade swiftly fell.  
Closing her eyes and mentally sending all the love in her heart to her lover, she felt the swift kick of hooves against her side. The blade did not meet her.  
Opening her eyes again, she saw Belan reared up on her back legs, her forelegs and her body weight knocking the orc off-balance. As he staggered to one side, Bard charged past on horseback, swiping his head off with one clean stroke.  
Thranduil sank to his knees, the horror of what he had seen sinking in, rendering him unable to move.  
“Come on!” Bard roared at him as he charged past, jerking him out of his state of shock. “Fight, man! Fight for her!”  
He jumped to his feet, as Belan nudged Ava persistently with her nose. She rolled over and dragged herself up onto her back, holding one arm across her chest. Lifting her sword with the other, she guided her with her knees and continued to fight. Even with one arm, she managed to defend herself with a valiant effort and protect her King’s people.  
Her head turned briefly as she heard an almighty racket. Lord Dain was leading a massive army of dwarves towards them at full speed, weapons swinging in attack as they approached. A small smile tugged at her lips despite the agony coursing through her body. Never let it be said that Dain would sit back when there was a good fight going on.  
“Come on then, ya bastards!” he roared, delving right into the heart of the war. “Let’s see what you’re made of!”  
The dwarves swarmed around, cutting paths through the hoards of orcs that still battled against the elves. Corpses fell to the ground, screams rang out, the stench of blood heavy in the air.  
Thranduil fought with renewed energy, knowing he had victory in his sights with the backup from Dain and his army, along with Bard and his people. Within a short time frame, more and more of the enemy fell as the force within the three groups united as one grew in strength.  
“What the hell are you doing, man?” Dain shouted, charging past him on his boar and swinging his hammer around his head like it was a trophy. “Get that woman of yours out of here!”  
Thranduil stared after him, amazed at how much his strong accent sounded so much like Ava’s. Both fiery and fearsome when in a foul mood, he wondered briefly if genetics had crossed lines somewhere in the realms of time.  
He swiftly ran over to her, where she balanced perfectly on Belan’s back as the horse reared up on her back legs, swiping her blade across an orc’s throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, and Belan dropped back onto all four hooves, skirting out of the way.  
Ava caught sight of him, the look in his eyes stopping her heart. Fear, pain, grief, and heartbreak lurked in the icy blue depths, along with a thousand unspoken words. Once more, she felt the prick of unshed tears burning her eyes.  
He caught hold of Belan’s halter, running with her away from the battle. The horse trotted alongside him willingly, knowing it was time for her to hand her mistress over to him. She leaned down on her forelegs as he came to a stop, so that Ava could dismount.  
She howled in pain as she rolled off her, landing on her knees on the ground beside her. Thranduil immediately scooped her up in his arms, striding towards Belroch, who he had become separated from at some point during the battle.  
“I will ride with you,” Bard shouted, coming to a stop beside them. “You will find shelter back at Lake Town, and supplies.”  
“I owe you, my friend,” he replied.  
Bard grinned. “No, you do not. Think of this as an opportunity for us to repay towards what you have done for us in the past. Come. You will need protection.”  
“Are you still bloody here?” Dain hollered as he charged past again. “You’ve had your fun! Bugger off, ya pointy-eared princess!”  
Thranduil struggled to hide his smirk. The bad blood between them had long settled, but the dwarf King could not resist a shot at his ears, and grabbed the chance whenever he found it.  
He glanced at the love of his life as he held her in his arms, to find her pale and semi-conscious.  
“We need to get that arrow out,” Bard said. “Hurry.”  
He carefully eased them both onto Belroch’s back, and the horse followed Bard without guidance. Belan trotted along at their side, loyal to her mistress.  
By the time they approached the village, Ava was unconscious and a dead weight against him. Alarm surged through him as he handed her down to Bard, who had jumped off his horse immediately on their arrival. He slid off Belroch’s back, taking her from him.  
“I need to get help for her,” he said, panic in his eyes.  
“Follow me,” Bard instructed, hurrying along the wooden pathways that skirted the canals. He led him through into the heart of the town, where he entered a run-down wooden house.  
Thranduil gently laid her down on a soft bed, peeling back the blood-soaked fabric from the wound on her shoulder. She had bled out, the loss of blood at a dangerous level.  
“One thing the elves taught me was how to mix their potions,” Bard said, frantically tearing leaves from a plant. “I remember this being done for a wound many winters back.” He glanced at Thranduil. “But I don’t posses elf magic. That, my friend, is for you to provide.”  
He watched him soak the leaves, their healing ingredients fusing into the water. He took the bowl from him, taking out his dagger.  
Willing the tremble in his hands to settle, he placed one hand on her upper chest, using slight pressure. The other he used to carefully push the tip of the blade into the wound.  
Ava didn’t move a muscle.  
He carefully worked the arrow head free, his breath leaving him with a _whoosh _as he set the dagger to one side and withdrew the projectile. Blood immediately poured out of her. He lifted a handful of bandages and leaves from the bowl, pushing them tightly into the open wound.__  
Still she didn’t react.  
Muttering in Sindar, he packed the potent mix into her, hoping against the odds that she hadn’t lost too much blood and that he wasn’t too late.  
Behind him, Bard stood in silence, watching him work.  
“Do not leave me, my love,” Thranduil whispered, using the heel of his hand to exert pressure over the whole area. “I have nothing to live for if you are not at my side.”  
Bard looked away, remembering when he had lost his own love. Swallowing the emotions in his throat, he quietly left the room.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Ava paced the room restlessly.  
She had eventually regained consciousness to find herself back at the palace, with the nurse who had tended to her previously hovering over her. She had filled her in with what had happened; Thranduil removing the arrow and treating her, before bringing her back home to recover.  
Since their return the previous day, she had been taking care of her and keeping the wound clean and dressed. The King’s magic had apparently worked, as the injury had practically healed and the dressing was off.  
The battle had been a success, with the army of orcs falling in defeat against the elves, the dwarves, and the Lake Town people. The losses were astronomical, but they had won.  
And they had taken a prisoner.  
*****

 

She stepped down off the bottom step, nodding to the guard who stood at the door of the dungeon. He bowed his head, and stepped aside.  
A shiver rippled down her back as she stepped inside.  
The prisoner lifted his head as she walked towards him, his features unreadable in the gloom. His hands and feet were bound tightly.  
She stopped a few feet away from him.  
They stared at each other.  
“Uncle,” she said finally.  
“Life in Mirkwood seems to be good for you,” he replied.  
“Not for your finances,” she retorted.  
He inhaled through his nose. “That battle has been won, but the war is not over,” he said.  
“Over my dead body,” she said. “Then there will be no trading, no agreement, no huge pay-off. Where will that leave you?”  
He didn’t answer.  
“Why did you do it?” she whispered. “Why did you lie to me my whole life?”  
Fire flashed in his eyes. “You are a very valuable asset,” he snapped. “The power of your gift passed on to the next generation of trolls would give them great power. They would rule the lands. The world would belong to them.”  
“The world would come to an end!” she cried. “Reality called, they want your ass back as soon as you come to your senses.”  
He laughed. “You have a lot to learn. You know nothing of true elf ways. Nothing of your heritage.”  
She folded her arms. “So it is all true, I suppose? You stole me from my parents and fed me a load of bullshit for years, just to fill your pockets and satisfy your greed?”  
He shrugged. “Gold is what keeps the world moving,” he said simply. “You will see that...if you live long enough.”  
“I am not sure you will live long enough,” she answered. “Do not count your gold pieces yet, I am not the person you thought I was.”  
“You think you have found the truth, the right path? Do not make me laugh. You are here as a means to an end. You have a purpose, that is why you are here, and only why. Nothing else.”  
“Wrong,” she hissed, leaning close to his face. “You are so far from being wrong, it’s not even funny.”  
“Who boosted your quest for knowledge?” he leered. “Thranduil? Ha – that is a trap I am not surprised you fell into. And one you will regret falling into.”  
“You know nothing,” she said.  
“You think word does not reach me? What do you think will happen if you birth his bastard child? Have you ever thought about that?”  
She didn’t answer.  
“Think about it,” he whispered harshly, venom in his eyes. “His heritage and magic, his power, mixed with your genetics? How strong would the Sindar elves become?”  
“You are toxic through and through,” she told him. “Absolute poison on the lowest level.”  
“You are considering it,” he said, leaning back against the wall behind him with a satisfied smirk. “Just think...he beds you, you fall with his child, and up comes a generation of elves with the power to change the future. I am sorry Ava – did you think he cares about you?”  
She shook her head. “I do not know how someone can be so rotten, so decayed inside,” she said.  
“Decayed has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Has he taken you into his bed? Has he promised you the world? Has he told you how special you are?”  
Her blood chilled.  
“Has he gone above and beyond to keep you safe? Yes, I can see by your eyes that he has. And why do you think he has gone to so much trouble? For the strength and leadership in the child that he would impregnate you with!”  
“Stop!” she shouted, anger boiling over. “What do you know? You have no heart in you, no feelings, nothing. _You are nothing! _”__  
“I am reality!” he shouted back, the anger on his face. “You have one purpose anywhere you go Ava, and that is to breed. Only to breed. Whether you choose to do it with him or the trolls or anyone else, the end result does not change. You are not wanted or desired for who you are, you are wanted for _what _you are. The only difference here is that if you give birth to a child from him, he will have all the power he could ever want.”__  
“Liar,” she hissed.  
“I can see you are still as easily led as you always were,” he said. “I would wager my life that he is telling you everything he thinks you want to hear. How precious you are, how much he loves you. Tell me – has he asked for your hand in marriage?”  
She stayed silent.  
“I did not think so. You will never replace his dead wife. He might tell you otherwise, but the history is still very much alive. He will never make you his in the full sense. You are here solely so you can produce his child, but with your powers.”  
She refused to say anything.  
“You will never have his love,” he whispered. “All you will ever be is his child-bearing whore.”  
“Enough!” an angry voice roared, making her jump in fright.  
She turned to see Thranduil stepping out of the shadows, fury radiating from him. She hadn’t even sensed he was there.  
“You will NOT disrespect her!” he shouted, grabbing her uncle by the throat and crashing him against the wall. “You will NOT fill her head with your poisonous lies and deceit!” He breathed hard, fighting the urge to rip his head off with his bare hands. “I have heard enough.”  
He turned to face Ava, the look in her eyes stopping him in his tracks.  
Questions, fear, and heartbreak lurked in the blue depths. Along with mistrust and suspicion.  
Fear pierced his heart. He lowered his eyes and stepped past her, sensing her follow. They left the dungeon and the guard closed and locked the door.  
“Ava-“  
“Don’t,” she interrupted him, holding her hand up. “I need to be alone. I need to get my thoughts together.”  
He clenched his teeth, choosing to respect her wishes. Anger washed off her in waves, and his gut instinct told him not to push her, as he stood the chance of losing her completely. He had seen her angry, hurt, upset, but never like this. He turned to walk away, then turned back after a few steps.  
“Take this with you,” he said quietly, taking a small, folded velvet square from the folds of his cloak. “It may help.”  
He handed it to her and walked away, his gaze still lowered.  
She studied the fabric, before putting it down the front of her top and turning away from the dungeon door.  
*****

_____ _

 

She sat on the base of a tree that had been chopped down, lost in her own thoughts. Hours had passed since her confrontation with her uncle, and his words still rang in her head as clearly as though he had just uttered them.  
Tears rolled down her cheeks.  
Was there any truth to what he had said? How would she know?  
Thinking back, she cast her mind back to when Thranduil had told her he had feelings for her.  
_I could not bear to see you in the arms of another. I would rather die _.__  
_I have fought this for too long. I have pushed you away and tried to stop it, but I could not. I cannot exist without you, Nin mel _.__  
_I love you, Nin mel. More than anything _.__  
_I would die for you _.__  
Were his words true to his heart, or was he telling her what she needed to hear in order for her to bear his child? Doubts and confusion filled her, taking over her soul. Had she made a mistake in falling in love with him, opening her heart to him?  
She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling physical pain accompanying her distress. Her fingers felt the folded velvet he had handed her outside the dungeon, and she pulled it from her top. Carefully unfolding it, she gasped as she found a wide white-gold ring, covered in ice blue gems.  
Lifting it for closer inspection, she noticed script engraved on the inside of the band. She squinted as she tried to make out the words.  
_Ava – my love, my life. My everything, my wife ___  
A sob tore itself from her throat.  
Her shoulders shook as she leaned forwards, resting her elbows on her knees as she sobbed in grief. He did love her, and she had doubted him and pushed him away. She held her head in her hands, torn apart with the anguish that overwhelmed her. The times he had risked his life for her, the times he had told her he loved her, the times he had held her in his arms and protected her – everything had been genuine and from his heart. She had thrown it back in his face outside the dungeon, refusing to let him speak and demanding she be left alone.  
Time and time again he had tried to shield her from danger, and each time she had waded in and fought at his side, refusing to let him face danger alone. He had been looking out for her because of his feelings for her, not because he wanted to breed with her. He had wanted to keep her safe because she had a place in his heart, a place which she had just slammed the door on with her actions.  
Howls of heartache and sorrow tore her soul apart at the thought of what she had lost, of the love she had pushed away in anger and confusion.  
A soft touch on the top of her head made her look up.  
Thranduil, unable to watch her grief any longer, had emerged from where he had stood amongst the trees. He dropped to his knees before her, sliding her off the tree stump and onto his thighs. Her arms went around his neck immediately. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as she shook and cried violently. Her cries were breaking his heart, and he felt his own tears escape as she sobbed against his neck. Squeezing his eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to her hair, whispering softly in his own language to try and comfort her. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other rubbed comfortingly up and down her back. Her whole body trembled and shook with the force of her cries.  
“Sssh, everything is going to be alright, my love,” he whispered, reverting back from Sindarin. “I promise, everything will be alright. I promise.”  
She clung to him, crying like she would never stop, crying like the world had come to end. The warm being in her arms returned her embrace, didn’t push her away as she had done with him. He let her cry out her distress, let her vent her fears and her doubts.  
“Ava, you must slow down, my darling,” he said softly after a while, pulling back a little to see her. “You will hyperventilate if you do not.”  
She shook her head, tears pouring down her cheeks, her fists clutching the fabric of his tunic. Her breath came in rapid, unsteady fits and starts.  
Lifting her hair away from her face, he softly rubbed his mouth against hers. Her lips trembled beneath his, her entire body still shaking.  
“Sssh,” he whispered. “Do not cry, my love. I cannot stand to see you in such pain.” He kissed her again, a feather-like touch.  
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, willing some peace into her troubled heart and her shattered emotions. Working his elf magic, he directed a stream of calmness into her body.  
She gradually settled in his arms, with just an occasional sniff or hiccup reaching his ears.  
He sat back, taking a deep breath as he tucked stray strands of her hair behind her ears.  
“I am so sorry,” she whispered, her tears still falling, but more silently. “I am so, so sorry.”  
He used the pads of his thumbs to wipe her tears away. Carefully opening her clenched fingers, he took the ring she held and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. “If you ever doubt how much I love you, just remember this ring,” he said softly. “Just remember how much the ice blue means to you.”  
She lifted confused eyes to his.  
He smiled. “You talk in your sleep,” he told her. “That first night we made love, you spoke about ice blue. I asked you what it was, and you said it was my eyes.”  
Her body shuddered again as fresh tears surfaced, and she choked back a sob as she dragged air into her lungs. “Can you ever forgive me for doubting you?”  
“There is nothing to forgive,” he whispered. “You have been surrounded by lies and deceit since the day you were born. Some day you will realise that I will never lie to you, I will never deceive you, I will never hurt you. I cannot however, forgive your uncle for what he said to you, for what he has put you through.”  
“I cannot speak about him right now,” she said, her tone low. She gazed at the ring he had placed on her finger, struck by the beauty and the significance of the ice blue gems.  
“I had this made the day after I told you how I felt about you,” he said as he held her hand in his. “I knew in my heart you were the one for me, and I was going to ask you to be my wife.”  
More silent tears streamed down her cheeks, and he softly kissed them away.  
“If you do not want children, if you have any doubts about my true intentions, then we do not need to have any,” he whispered. “But please tell me you will be my wife, please tell me you will spend eternity with me.”  
Her shoulders shook as she slid her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried against the soft, warm flesh. “Yes.”  
A long breath dragged itself from him as he closed his eyes, his arms encircling her, holding her flush against him.  
*****

_____ _

 

A soft gasp of wonder escaped from her parted lips as her heels dug into the soft blankets, a dazed look flooding her eyes as he slowly pushed inside her.  
“Thranduil,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes as he moved inside her. “I love you so much.”  
He lowered his head and kissed the tear that escaped. “I love you so much more, you will never know,” he whispered back.  
Sliding both arms under her shoulders, he crushed her to him as he plunged deeper into her, closing his eyes and savouring the feel of her. She clung to him as they moved together, moving in sync with him, touching and kissing him, teasing him and loving him. She closed her eyes as his breathing turned to panting, accentuated with little gasps here and there. Nothing on earth felt like this man in her arms, inside her, in her heart. No woman could ever experience what she was feeling, or experience the love he had for her.  
“Thranduil,” she whispered in his ear.  
He raised his head and gazed at her, his eyes clouded with passion and lust.  
She said nothing, just smiled at him.  
His breath caught in his throat, his nostrils flared. He halted his movements, reading her eyes. She blinked, knowing he could read her innermost thoughts and could see into the depths of her soul.  
He rolled over, pulling her on top of him. “Ride me, my love,” he panted, lifting his hips up off the bed to get deeper inside her. She smiled again, flexing her knees and grinding her hips down onto him. Leaning down, her breasts brushed against his chest as she placed a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw. He reached up and tangled his fists in her hair, waves of pleasure washing over him as she moved on him. He cried out as she raised her hips right up so that just the tip of him was inside her, and lowered herself back onto him with excruciating slowness. She did it again and again, until he felt he couldn’t take any more. Grabbing her hips, he flipped them both back over so she was on her back, pounding into her and crushing her mouth with his.  
“You make me crazy,” he moaned into her as he felt her tensing and trembling under him. “I need you so much...I cannot be without you...come for me, my love.”  
“Oh my God...” she whimpered, feeling the tingling begin in her toes. She pulled her legs up, crossing her feet at his back. “Stay with me...”  
He ran a hand up from her hip over her waist to her breast, gently flicking the pad of his thumb over her nipple. She bucked up off the bed, crying into him as she climaxed, her juices soaking the two of them. He groaned, tearing his mouth away from hers and burying his face against her neck as he gripped her, thrusting hard and fast into her orgasm, desperate for his own release. She twisted and thrashed under him as her pleasure ripped through her body, her movements quickening with each wave. His body tensed as he felt his orgasm build up, then speeded up his rhythm. She gripped him tight as he exploded into her, his body tense and trembling as he poured into her depths, colours flashing behind his closed eyelids as he panted for breath.  
Ava placed an open-mouthed kiss onto his shoulder as he lay on top of her, fighting for air. She trailed her fingertips down his back, smiling as he shuddered in response. With a grin she tightened her internal muscles, gripping him tightly. His body jerked in response, and he chuckled softly.  
Eventually he raised his head and gazed down at her, his eyes still full of passion.  
She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”  
He shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry about,” he told her, lifting one hand to caress her face. “There has been so much doubt and mistrust surrounding everything you have known. It is natural for you to question everything that you see before you.”  
“But not to question you,” she said. “I cannot believe I let him get into my head like that. You do not deserve that. I do not deserve you.”  
He silenced her by kissing her, projecting all the love he felt for her into his kiss. “You are my everything,” he told her. “Always and forever.”


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Ava slept like a baby that night. Thranduil was pressed tightly to her back with his arms wrapped around her. Any time she moved in her sleep, his hold tightened fractionally. At various points throughout the night she was vaguely aware of his breath on her ear, his warm chest against hers, or his long hair brushing her skin.  
She awoke to find ice blue eyes gazing into hers, a smile already turning the corners of his lips upwards.  
“Good morning, _Nin mel _,” he murmered, lowering his head and dropping a tender kiss on her mouth. “Did you sleep well?”__  
“Mmm,” she smiled in contentment. “I slept such a deep sleep.”  
“I am glad,” he said. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through her hair. “I love you.” The endearment came out as a whisper.  
“I love you so much,” she whispered back.  
“We have plans to make,” he said, snapping back to reality.  
She laughed. “Should you not ask Legolas beforehand?” she asked, sitting up in bed as he got up. She wrapped the blanket across her breasts.  
He slanted her a sideways look. “I am not marrying Legolas,” he said. “Why would I need to ask him anything?”  
She smiled. “Because you are his father, and you are making a huge change to your life. It affects him also. I do not want him to feel like I am trying to replace his mother.”  
“My son will not think that,” he assured her as he pulled tight trousers up incredibly long legs. “He is already aware that changes must happen, and that those changes involve us.”  
“I do not wish for him to feel like we are not taking his feelings into account though,” she murmered, her eyes glued to his thighs.  
He snapped his fingers and grinned as she blushed. “He is a grown man, as am I, and we are all capable of making our own decisions.”  
“Don’t I know you are a grown man,” she muttered under her breath, hiding an impish smile.  
“I do not believe I heard what you said,” he said, zeroing in on her so he was a mere hair’s breadth away from her face. “Tell me, my love.”  
She blushed furiously. “Nothing,” she said.  
Ice blue eyes sparkled. “You would tell me untruths?”  
“No,” she replied.  
He studied her, and she squealed as he suddenly threw her back down onto the bed, rolling his weight on top of her and pinning her arms down on either side of her head. “Tell me,” he whispered, lightly brushing his lips along the side of her jaw. “Tell me.”  
She closed her eyes as his mouth moved down her neck, trying to stop herself from purring in pleasure. “I did not say anything.”  
He continued exploring her neck, taking soft bites here and there. The pulse in her wrists went wild, and he could feel the proof of her reaction to him as he held her wrists. “Tell your King,” he whispered. “Tell him everything...”  
She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, struggling to keep her hips still as she fought the urge to lift up to his. “I do not seem to remember,” she said breathlessly. “Maybe you should remind me...”  
His lips crushed hers in savage passion, his long hair falling around them like a curtain, closing out everything around them. She opened her mouth the second his touched hers, welcoming his tongue as it hungrily explored inside. He trailed his hands down her arms, gripping her hips through the blanket as she wound her arms up around his neck.  
They broke apart for air, a loving smile passing between the two.  
“How can you make me feel like this, after what we did last night?” she murmered in wonder, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.  
“You do seem very responsive to me,” he acknowledged. “I often wondered whether I was imagining the lust and desire in your eyes a long time ago.”  
Her cheeks turned pink. “No, you were not imagining it,” she admitted. “I obviously did not manage to hide my thoughts very well.”  
His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled. He sat up, pulling her into a sitting position, and wrapped his arms around her in a close embrace. “I am so happy it was not just a figment of my hopeful imagination.”  
She turned her face into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his warm flesh. “I just did not have the courage to let you know how I felt,” she told him. “If you had not said anything, I probably would not have either.”  
“Then maybe Voron did us a good turn, even though it was not his true intent,” he said. “He wanted to remove you from my life, knowing that it would destroy me.”  
She rested her head on his shoulder, “I felt so bad when he said you had ordered that I do not return, and that it was my fault so many people had died,” she said. “I have had so much to come to terms with, and when he said that, I just wanted to give up and die. Just forget you existed...I could not imagine never seeing you again.”  
“Well you have nothing to worry about,” he said as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I am with you for eternity, _Nin mel _.”__  
She remained where she was, snuggled in his arms, safe, protected, and loved.  
*****

_____ _

 

Ava spoke quietly to Belan as she swept the stiff brush through her tail. The horse snorted back now and again, almost as though she understood what was being said and answering.  
Ava was sure she could understand.  
Straightening her back with a groan, she patted the animal’s neck and turned to toss the brush into the empty wooden box in the corner.  
A scene flashed in front of her eyes.  
Thranduil appeared before her, hunched down on his knees, his long hair falling forward over his shoulders. A hand reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, sharply pulling his head up and back, and he roared in pain. Ava hasped in horror as she watched a long, gleaming sword appear in front of him, slicing swiftly across his throat. Blood spurted in arterial spray as he tried to breathe, his face contorted in agony and shock. The blood pumped from his throat, gradually reducing to a flow, as the fist released the grip on his hair and he slumped forward.  
Dead.  
Ava instantly started hyperventilating. Although the attacker was unseen, she was sure it was someone Thranduil knew, someone he was possibly close to. She knew she should relax and try to learn more, maybe see something else or from a different angle, but the trauma from her vision reduced her to a quivering wreck. Her knees gave way and she sank down onto the straw-covered floor, shaking like a leaf.  
Belan nudged her gently with her nose, but she ignored her. She dragged her hands up over her face, wheezing as she gasped in air.  
“ _You were born with the power to see into the far future, the power to change it. It will help you make the choices you need to make _.”__  
Thranduil's words rang through her memory. Her head shot up. “The power to change it,” she whispered. That was her answer, bright and clear in front of her. If she knew what was going to happen, she could change the approach and change the outcome.  
She bounced to her feet, completely forgetting Belan. Running out of the stable into the bright sunlight, she stopped and squinted around, looking for something to point her in the right direction. As she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, using a technique Thranduil had taught her, she slowed her breathing and her heartbeat right down.  
The answer lay down in the dungeons.  
With her uncle.  
*****

____

_____ _

 

Ava stepped across the threshold of the dungeon, nodding the guard away who had been posted outside. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she said nothing, just stared at the scruffy prisoner who held residence in the cold, dark cavern.  
“Ah...something troubles you, else you would not be down here,” Giron drawled, watching her from the shadows. “Tell me your worries, Ava.”  
She remained silent, keeping him in her gaze.  
He arose slowly, a small smirk of self-satisfaction playing around the outer corners of his mouth. “Your power is becoming stronger, is it not?” He eyed her like a predator. “You are becoming more self-aware. You are seeing things now – visions?”  
She refused to look away from his eyes.  
He slowly crossed the floor and circled her, disappearing out of her line of vision as he went around her. “You are seeing things which cause you angst. Things that bring you worry.” He paused. “Things that horrify you.”  
Her eyes followed him as he passed in front of her.  
“Things that you have the power to change, if you had the appropriate knowledge,” he continued. “But you do not have that knowledge. You only have one part of a picture, a jigsaw piece, if you will.”  
He continued to circle her.  
Deciding silence was her strength until necessary to speak, she remained quiet.  
“You seek answers,” he whispered, passing close to her ear.  
She fought the urge to shudder in repulsion, knowing what he had planned for her had Thranduil not rescued her.  
Passing around her back, he lifted a handful of her long hair and let the ends fall through his fingers. “You seek other pieces of the puzzle,” he said. He stopped. “You seek to thwart Thranduil’s death.”  
Fiery blue eyes clashed with his. “You do not know what I seek, if anything at all,” she replied, breaking her silence.  
He grinned, a leering, gap-toothed grin. “I do. You can avert his demise, but only you.”  
Inhaling deeply through her nose, she clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to physically strangle him.  
“There is a price on his head,” Giron told her. “This can be lifted. But only on one condition.”  
Raising one eyebrow, she waited while he rocked back on his heels, that horrible leer glued into position.  
“Leave him,” he hissed suddenly, leaning towards her. “Leave Mirkwood.”  
“What do you gain out of this?” she asked. “Knowing what I do about you, you are not in this for nothing.”  
He shrugged. “Thranduil cost me a fortune,” he said. “Now I am faced with a choice of how I repay him. I either end his life, or make it a misery for him. That choice lies with you.”  
She shook her head. “You have no way to get to him,” she stated. “And you were not in the vision I saw. My instinct tells me that, the same way as it told me that you know more than you have said.”  
Cruel, deceptive eyes stared into hers. “I can stop the one I have chosen from taking his life,” he said. “But only on that condition. You leave him, and leave the realm. And you can never return, or the agreement goes back into force. And then you will not be able to stop it.”  
She stared at him for several long moments, before turning on her heel and leaving the dungeon. She summoned the guard back over with a nod of her head, and he locked the door. Treading up the stone steps away from the evil that lay locked in the cell, her heart was heavy.  
*****

 

Morning turned to afternoon.  
Ava’s thoughts turned darker and darker.  
Giron had not missed his mark; he knew exactly what she had foreseen and seemed to take great delight in the position he had placed her in. Knowing what she did, she knew she had to make a difficult choice. If she stayed, Thranduil would die. Die a horrible, painful death. If she left, she would break his heart. And her own.  
She stared out at the woods, seeking solace and comfort in the dense trees, but none came. Usually the surrounding beauty of nature around her would soothe her in troubled times, but not this day. Not with the burden she carried on her shoulders.  
She knew what she had to do.  
Realistically, she had no choice. Not knowing who it was her uncle had arranged to take her lover’s life, she was powerless to intervene. The only solution was to opt for the second choice – to disappear.  
Thranduil was a strong man, a hard ruler. He would survive. He had survived before she entered his life, therefore he would continue to do so after she had gone. If she talked to him about the situation, she knew he would be angry, vengeful, and nothing would be accomplished. Thranduil often took a black and white view of things, never pausing to look at the grey areas in between. He would react in rage, punishing Giron and not getting any closer to the identity of the would-be assassin.  
Pushing herself up from her seat, she went over and picked up a blank sheet of parchment, slowly rubbing the paper between her forefinger and thumb. A heavy sadness had taken over from the initial shock and horror she had felt, followed by anger and grief.  
With shoulders that dropped in defeat, she began to write.  
*****

 

“Have you seen Ava?” Thranduil asked one of the maids as he passed her in the hallway.  
She shook her head and went on her way.  
Wondering where she had disappeared to, he continued his search for her. Each room or hall he went into, he found empty. He asked guards, housekeepers, checked with Faron down in the kitchen. Nobody had seen her.  
Perplexed and worried, he went back to the room he shared with her. He stood in the centre of the floor, hands on his hips, wondering where on earth she was. Belan was asleep in her stable, so he knew she hadn’t gone for a ride. Anyway – she would have told someone if she had.  
He closed his eyes and forced his heartbeat to slow down.  
Nothing.  
Opening his eyes and frowning, he turned in circles. A sheet of folded parchment sticking out from under the pillows caught his eye.  
Unfolding it, his frown deepened.  
_T _,__  
_I have reached the decision that life in Mirkwood is not where my heart lies. I am sorry for what I have put you through, and for the time you spent teaching and guiding me. I feel that my destiny lies elsewhere, and I cannot fulfil that destiny there at the palace _.__  
_Please do not look for me – I do not wish to return. I truly hope you find happiness and true love with someone who can make you happy, but it is not me. A _.__  
What the hell was going on? She had been so happy when they had last seen each other that morning, having spent a glorious night in each other’s arms.  
He clenched his teeth, confusion, anger, and heartbreak fighting for dominance. He had asked for her hand in marriage, pledging eternity to her, and she had agreed. The vivid memory of her breaking her heart in his arms flashed before him, the anguish at how she had made him feel by pushing him away, the anger at what her uncle had told her, surging through her veins.  
Yet it was her handwriting on the paper. He would know her distinctive artistic writing anywhere.  
He struggled to regain control and gather his composure together. Somebody somewhere must have seen her leave the grounds, and with that thought in mind, he set off for the main gate.  
Nobody seemed to know anything.  
He was baffled at how she had managed to leave without being seen, and how she intended to get where she was going if she was on foot. The entire forest spanned for miles in all directions, and it would take her days to break out of the dense woodland. She knew the dangers that lurked there, from spiders, to trolls, to orcs, yet she had still gone unprotected.  
And she had figured out how to block him from tracking her.  
That both hurt and angered him. He had not taught her that, but had focused on how to develop her power. Somehow she had found a loophole and was able to shut him out at will, it seemed.  
He slowly returned to the palace, anger burning his soul. He had opened his heart, life and soul to her, and she had destroyed it. She had not even had the backbone to speak to him face to face, choosing instead to take the coward’s way out. He barked orders to the guards to alert every messenger in every corner of his kingdom of her disappearance, and to let him know immediately when she was located.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Six months passed.  
Ava had managed to avoid all the dangers that lurked deep in Mirkwood forest, reaching safety and travelling to Ravenhill. The journey was long and hard, but she endured and managed to pick up work along the way where she could, and scraped by.  
She settled at Ravenhill, working in one of the smaller villages on a farm. The pay was dire, the conditions worse, but she took comfort in the fact that Thranduil’s life was not in any danger, and he was protected forever by her absence.  
The nights were long and cold, huddled down in the hayloft of the stable with three of the horses below her. She sorely missed Thranduil, and often lay awake thinking of him. She wondered if he had moved on and opened his heart to another since her departure, but her inner self told her he probably had not. She spent her spare time, little as it was, developing her power, and her visions became more frequent.  
One vision that haunted her was of Thranduil sitting on the stone wall outside the bedroom they had shared, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he wept. Her heart broke even more, catching her off-guard because she did not think it was possible to break any further. Her inner resolve almost melted, until she reminded herself that he would stay alive as long as she stayed away.  
She cried endless tears over the months, her appetite faded to almost nothing, and eventually she gave up on herself. At times she felt so miserable she wished for the eternal peace of death, to free her from the demons she fought with every breath she took. Life was unbearable, with no future, no prospect, no bright sunlight on the horizon.  
After one such sleepless night, she dragged herself wearily from one chore to another, doing her best as usual but feeling like her soul had long since given up and died. The work was heavy, and the hours long, but she was determined by nature and still had a little of her inner strength left.  
After tying her long hair back into a ponytail, she finished milking the cows and went back to move some of the bales of hay from the upper loft where she lived down to the lower level for the horses.  
Widening her stance for better leverage, she bit her bottom lip and grunted as she worked the bale towards her and hauled it off the ground to place on top of another one. She balanced it against her chest as she struggled with the weight.  
Suddenly, strong arms came round from behind her and took the weight, quickly lifting and positioning it into place.  
She turned around and found herself pressed up against Thranduil’s chest.  
He stared down at her with cold, empty eyes.  
Her heart stopped, and the colour drained from her face. “What are you doing here?” she whispered in shock.  
“I came to reclaim something of mine.” He showed no emotion whatsoever.  
She swallowed, looking away from those ice cold eyes. “There is nothing here for you,” she said, daring herself to look at him again.  
He didn’t reply.  
Taking a deep breath, she pushed past him, no mean feat as he outweighed her by a wide margin. She lifted another bale, turning to add it to the other two.  
She jumped in fright as he knocked it from her hands as though it weighed nothing.  
“You do not turn your back on me with no explanation,” he said angrily.  
“You do not own me,” she replied. “Let the past go.”  
He shook his head, fury blazing from his eyes. “You agreed to be my wife. Therefore I do own you.”  
“No you do not,” she said. “I chose to forfeit that agreement. You have no choice other than to accept my decision.”  
“Yet you disappeared without talking to me,” he said. “Why?”  
She hesitated. “I did not want to hurt you anymore than I already had.”  
He laughed humourlessly. “You really think I accept that as your answer?”  
“You can accept what you want,” she said. “I have to get back to work.”  
He grabbed her upper arm as she went to pass him, gripping hard.  
“Ava!” a voice called. “Have you finished those hay bales? I need you out here with the goats.” The farmer appeared in the doorway.  
“No she has not finished,” Thranduil growled, staring menacingly at her.  
“K-King Thranduil,” the farmer stuttered. “I am honoured-“  
“Leave us,” he snapped, never taking his eyes off hers.  
The farmer vanished without another word.  
“Let go of me,” she said quietly.  
“You belong to me,” he hissed. “You owe me some sort of explanation for disappearing like that.”  
“I do _not _belong to you!” she cried, wrenching her arm free and rubbing it where he had gripped her. “I wanted to leave, so I did. There is nothing you can do about it.”__  
His eyes changed. “I gave you my heart,” he whispered. “I would have made you my Queen. Was that not enough?”  
“It is not about what is enough or not enough, it is about what was right for me,” she said. “I made a mistake.”  
Shock flashed across his eyes. “Is that what I was? A mistake? What we shared? The nights we spent together? The love we had? A mistake?”  
She broke his gaze for a split second. “Yes.”  
He stepped back in shock. “You are not the Ava I know and fell in love with,” he said softly. “This is not you. What happened to you?”  
She took a determined deep breath. “I had to follow my destiny,” she replied. “Wherever it takes me.”  
He shook his head slowly, his long hair swishing against his sides. A brief memory of what that hair felt like brushing against her naked body surged to the front of her mind, bringing a lump to her throat.  
_Stay strong. He will die otherwise. ___  
“Maybe it was infatuation, I do not know,” she said with an effort to put some strength in her tone. “But I realised it was not for me.”  
“Did you ever love me?”  
Knowing the only way he would go was to make him hate her and turn against her, she decided to drive the final stake through his heart, and her own in the process. “No.”  
Tears gathered in his eyes, and she almost crumbled. She longed to hold him, be in his arms, feel his warmth and strength. But this was something she had to do alone, and she had to hurt him deeply in the process.  
“How could you be so evil? So dead inside?” he asked, shaking his head again. “How could you?”  
“The fantasy was not what I thought it was,” she said decidedly. “I had to move on. There is a future out there for me somewhere.”  
“And what if you are captured by the trolls? What of the prophecy?” he demanded.  
“Then so be it,” she shot back. She had reverted to anger as her best form of defence. “I have made my choice, and it is not a life with you. Respect that I have freedom of choice, and respect my decision.”  
She stormed passed him, leaving him standing with his mouth open in shock, an anguished look in his eyes. As she left the stables, silent tears of angush flooded down her face as her heart shattered completely.  
*****

_____ _

 

Thranduil paced back and forth, his hands behind his back. Unable to eat, he had declined his meal and continued to walk up and down. The few guards he had travelled with kept their distance, knowing he needed time alone.  
Ava’s words had cut him to the core.  
He stopped pacing, his ice blue eyes gazing out of the open door into the night. He knew deep in his heart that what they had had was real love, and nothing she said would change that. For some reason she had turned against him and was determined to push him away. He could not think of anything he had done wrong, anything to make her feel unwanted or unloved. He had devoted everything he had to her, and would willingly die for her.  
She knew this.  
Yet she had still chosen not to be with him. Power, wealth, and status had not changed her mind. The deepest love he had ever felt had not changed her mind.  
Yet something had.  
Something very sudden, something unexpected.  
He sighed silently, closing his eyes. Doing something he had long promised himself he would never do, he tracked into her thoughts. Luckily for him, her control had slipped and he was able to get past the block she had been keeping around herself like a steel wall.  
He felt darkness, anguish, loneliness, and despair. He felt heartbreak, grief, and the feeling that he was being torn in two directions. He also felt an unmistakable sense of defeat, of her giving up.  
He felt oncoming death.  
Shaking his head rapidly, he broke free from her thoughts, feeling dizzy and disorientated. Being in her mind had not been pleasant, and he felt off balance.  
Following his inner instinct without thinking, he left the small wooden building and marched across the village towards the farm. The buildings loomed up as dark shapes as he neared them, an eerie air emitting from them. Entering the stables silently, he stopped, listening.  
Heartfelt sobs were coming from the upper level of the horses’ enclosure. He swiftly climbed the ladder, searching for her amongst the bales of hay.  
A candle in the corner cast a soft, cosy glow.  
Ava sat with her feet curled around her, leaning forwards, her shoulders heaving as she cried.  
He made no noise as he stepped up behind her, but his heart stopped as he looked down at her.  
She held a dagger in her right hand, her left wrist extended.  
A cold fear gripped him. Was this the only choice she had, to take her own life? What was she running from?  
She lifted the blade fractionally, with the intention of slicing it through her wrist.  
A hand shot over her shoulder and gripped hers in an immobile steel grip, preventing her from harming herself. She screamed and lashed out, but the hold stayed.  
“No!” she screamed, crying hysterically. “Leave me alone!”  
He kept his grip over hers, his weight and strength rendering the weapon useless. She spun around and pushed against him, kicking out and fighting like a demon.  
Extracting the blade from her, he tossed it down over the edge onto the lower level, and crushed her arms to her sides. Still she screamed and fought.  
He flipped her around and crushed her back against his chest, clamping a hand over her mouth and sinking down onto the straw-covered floor with her. Her screams immediately became muffled, but she still tried, refusing to surrender.  
“I have patience. I can wait,” he said, prepared to hold her prisoner like that for the next month if need be.  
After a long time, her strength ebbed and she gradually gave up, but he did not release her. He waited until he was sure she would not scream before he removed the hand covering her mouth. Sitting back a little, he turned her to face him, having a good look at her this time.  
Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot. She had lost a lot of weight, her collarbones visible. Her hair had lost its usual shine, and hung limply down her back. What shocked him the most was her eyes.  
They were dead.  
Underlined with dark shadows, they had no life in them.  
“Ava,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”  
She lowered her gaze, tired and worn out, defeated.  
He tipped her chin up so she would look at him. “Why did you leave me?”  
Silence.  
“Have you found another to love?” he asked, dreading her reply.  
Her tears continued to fall. “Once a woman has been with you, there can be no other,” she whispered brokenly.  
His mind worked quickly. “Did someone force you to leave me?”  
No response.  
“Ava,” he prompted gently.  
She hesitated, then nodded.  
“Did someone threaten you?”  
She shook her head. She knew what was coming next.  
“Did someone threaten me?”  
Fresh tears cascaded down her face, and her body trembled as she slowly nodded.  
He closed his eyes for a second, contemplating her response. “Who?” he asked softly.  
She cried harder. “I cannot say,” she cried. “You must let this go, return to the palace and leave me here. Forget me.”  
“I cannot,” he said, gripping her upper arms. “How can I forget you? You changed my life Ava, you made me live again. How can I walk away from that?”  
“You have to,” she sobbed. “You will die if you do not!”  
He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head against his chest. “Tell me everything,” he said quietly. “Everything.”  
Her entire body shook as she cried her heart out, anguish overruling everything around her. Deciding she had nothing to lose, she started to speak.  
“I saw something,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.  
“What did you see?” His tone was soft, gentle, encouraging. His hands slowly rubbed up and down her back.  
“I saw you on your knees with your head leaning forwards,” she told him. “Someone grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, and slit your throat.” Her crying increased. “There was blood everywhere, and you were fighting to breathe, but there was too much blood and it would not stop, and then whoever it was let you go and you fell forwards and you were dead-“  
He turned her face into his chest, rocking her from side to side as she bordered on hysteria. The force of her sobs ripped through her body into his, her grief fusing itself into his soul. “Breathe slowly, _Nin mel _, breathe slowly,” he whispered. He instructed her to breathe in and out in rhythm with him, and gradually her breathing matched his.__  
“I knew my uncle had the answer,” she continued, once she was in some sort of control. “I went down to see him, and he knew straight away what I had seen. He told me that there was a price on your life because he wanted to either kill you or make you suffer, so the choice was mine. If I stayed you would die, if I left he would stop the murder. I had no choice...I had to leave. I cannot go back.”  
He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “You are wrong, my love. You can come back.”  
She shook her head, pushing against his chest and putting some space between them. His arms remained around her. “I cannot return. He said if I do, the agreement is back to where it was, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. I do not know who he has arranged this with, I did not see. All I know is that it is someone close to you.”  
Worried blue eyes held hers. “You can see the future and you can change it,” he reminded her.  
“I know. That is what I did. You will stay alive as long as I am not with you. That is why I left,” she answered.  
A few seconds ticked past.  
“Did you ever love me?” he asked eventually.  
Another wave of tears escaped. “Yes,” she whispered. “I still do. I always will. Nothing can change that. But it is because I love you that I had to leave you. I can never come back to you and risk your life. Never.”  
“I cannot live without you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I need you with me, my love.”  
She shook her head, rocking back on her heels. “Your life is too precious,” she said.  
“And yours is not?” he questioned. “Why did I find you about to end yours?”  
Heartbroken eyes looked away as she struggled with herself, to face the truth. “Because I have nothing left to live for,” she whispered. “I would rather be dead than live this life.”  
“You have me,” he said, pulling her back to look at him. “I love you with all my heart and soul, I have spent these last months hunting everywhere for you. I have had guards out looking for you, messengers out looking everywhere. I have turned every leaf in the forest upside down to find you, I have been all over. You have always been in my heart and you always will be. If I cannot be with you then I have nothing.”  
“Your life is too precious,” she repeated, the heartbreak clear in her eyes. “I will not stand back and watch you die.”  
“I will not die,” he told her. “And you have my word, my oath. If I have to remain locked in a single room with you until eternity is spent, I will do so, if that is what it will take. I will not leave here without you. You belong with me.”  
“What I saw was horrible, I cannot describe how horrible it was,” she said, her voice raw. “It was unbearable – I cannot and will not let you go through that. I love you far too much.” Tears still fell, and he gently wiped them away with his thumbs.  
“It will not happen,” he promised softly. “Why did you not come to me, my love? Why?”  
“The stakes were too high,” she replied. “It was a chance I could not take. I will not gamble with your life.”  
He shook his head, his own anguish heavy. “I am sorry you had to see that,” he said. “That you felt you had to carry it alone. I wish you had come to me, _Nin mel _. I wish you had told me.”__  
She closed her eyes, exhausted and defeated.  
“I promise you – I will make this right,” he said. “Trust in me. Believe in me.”  
“I want to,” she said, so softly he had trouble hearing her. “But I fear for you. You have no idea how scared I am that what I saw will happen.”  
“It will not,” he said. “Come back with me. We will meet with Legolas and the captain of my guard, and we will work this out. I promise you with everything that I stand for, what you saw will not take place. Please come back with me. Come back _to _me.”__  
Gazing deep into his beautiful eyes, she knew she was lost. He had her heart, and he knew it. Long lashes blinked, his gaze holding hers. Her eyes drifted closed as he closed the distance between them, his mouth brushing hers ever so lightly. Her lips parted of their own accord, and the kiss deepened. She whimpered softly as she slid her arms up around his neck, turning her head a little to deepen the angle further. His arms tightened around her as he pulled her forwards onto his lap, so she was sitting astride him.  
“You are my life,” he whispered, pulling back to gaze at her and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Forever.”  
*****

_____ _

 

In the depths of the darkness, Ava arched her back and whimpered for release, for mercy from the beautiful torment Thranduil was inflicting on her body. She was desperate to climax, but didn’t want the beautiful agony to end. The man in her arms and in her body rocked her to the stars, intent on branding her as his own once more.  
Hot kisses, sharp bites, and tender caresses moved the earth for them, eased their anguish and their heartache. Strong hands held her, powerful hips thrust into her, a loving mouth chased her demons away.  
“Please Thranduil, let me come,” she pleaded, wrapping her legs around his thighs. “Please.”  
He sunk his teeth into her lower lip, mesmerised by the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. He thrust deeper and faster, making her cry out as the tension mounted in her. Flexing deep inside her, he grazed his teeth down the side of her neck, murmering to her in Sindarin. Her body tensed, her arms and legs tightening around him, and he pushed harder still.  
“Come for me, _Nin mel _,” he panted, reverting from his own language. “Give in to me.”__  
She exploded instantly, screaming his name as her inner muscles contracted rhythmically around him, gripping him in an iron hold. Stars burst behind his closed eyes as he erupted like a volcano, pulsing deep within her. Crushing her mouth with his, he fought to hold on to her as she thrashed wildly under him, the force of her orgasm ripping through her body. He tangled his fists in her hair and held her still, ravaging her mouth. She sobbed and cried, her emotions scattered in all directions.  
“Do not cry, my love,” he whispered as he kissed her tears away. “I love you so much.”  
“They are not sad tears,” she whispered against his cheek. “I promise, they are not sad. Afraid maybe, but mostly happy.”  
“There is nothing to fear,” he said. His long hair brushed her upper arms and her chest as he moved, pulling back a little and studying her. “And I promise that with as much meaning as I promise my love for you.”  
“I love you too, more than I could ever tell you,” she said, and lifted her mouth to meet his once more.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Ava awoke as the sun crept up in the sky, snuggled against a warm, hard chest. Long blond hair swept around her, almost strengthening the bond with the man in her arms. She lifted her head and gazed up at him.  
His eyes were closed, his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly in the briefest of smiles. He breathed deeply, relaxed and content. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her hand and trailed her fingertips gently down his cheek.  
Ice blue eyes opened and focused on her, and his smile deepened.  
“Good morning, my love,” he said huskily.  
“Good morning,” she smiled back, lifting herself up for his kiss. A low moan of pleasure purred from her throat as his mouth met hers in a gentle kiss, gradually gaining in intensity and desire.  
“As much as I want to make love to you again, it is too soon,” he said reluctantly as he pulled back. “Last night was the first time in a long time; I felt the changes in your body.”  
She nodded. “I felt it too. If truth be told, I am a little tender.”  
“I am sorry, _Nin mel _, I did not mean to hurt you,” he said, cradling her face with his hand.__  
“You did not,” she assured him. “Like you said, it has been a long time.” She paused. “I never thought I would hold you again.”  
He clenched his teeth, his heart twisting at the pain in her words. “I never thought I would see you again,” he told her. “And my heart broke as every day ended and I was no closer to finding you.”  
A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, which he kissed away. “I am sorry, my love,” she whispered. “Please forgive me for what I have done to you, but I did not and do not want you to die.”  
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said softly. “You did what you thought was right, by keeping me safe. I will always love you even more for that. And you have suffered...I can see it.”  
She frowned in confusion.  
“You are different,” he explained. “You have lost weight. Your eyes were dull yesterday, they had lost their spark. Your hair does not shine anymore.”  
She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “I did not take care of myself,” she said. “I did not see any reason to.”  
He cupped his hand under her jaw and pulled her close to him. “Well now you have,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her mouth. “Come. We have a long journey ahead of us. And you must eat before we leave.”  
“Ordering me around already,” she grumbled half-heartedly as he shifted out from beneath her.  
He grinned, dropping another kiss on her lips. “Only because I love you so much,” he said.  
Within the hour, both were dressed and she had given in and eaten something, as he was persistent and would not leave her alone until she did. While she brushed her hair, he left with one of his guards to speak to the farmer, to inform him she was leaving with him.  
He thanked him for looking after her and giving her work and a roof over her head, and paid him a generous amount as a gesture of appreciation. The farmer was humbled to have the King at his door, and could not have been more grateful.  
“You will ride with me, _Nin mel _,” Thranduil told her as they walked hand in hand over to where the horses and the guards were assembled, awaiting their command to leave and escort them safely back to Mirkwood.__  
She offered him a small smile. “Will Belroch manage to carry us both that distance?”  
“Of course he will,” he replied with a frown. “You hardly weigh anything now. Something I will speak to Faron about, and rectify upon our return.”  
Belroch lifted his head as they approached, walked over and nuzzled her shoulder with his nose, giving her a snoft snort of welcome.  
“I have missed you, precious boy,” she said, wrapping her arms around the horse’s neck. “I missed you and your sister.”  
“I did consider bringing her,” Thranduil said. “But I knew when I found you I would want you in my arms as much as possible.”  
She looked up at him, the emotions clear in her eyes. His eyes mirrored what she was feeling, and he smiled.  
The guards bowed in respect as they approached the pair, addressing her with their customary _m’lady _.__  
“We will set off in a few moments,” Thranduil told them. “And we will take the route that we followed to get here. I do not want Ava to be exposed to any more danger than is necessary.”  
“We will protect her with our lives, my Lord,” one of the guards replied. He smiled at Ava. “M’lady.” With that, he turned his horse and waited for them.  
Thranduil stood at her back. “May I?” he asked softly, and she could hear the smile in his voice.  
“Please,” she replied, her own smile appearing.  
His strong hands lifted her onto Belroch’s back, and within a second he was sitting behind her, tucking her behind into the cradle of his open thighs. Picking up the reins with one hand and holding his left arm around her, he guided the animal on their journey.  
*****

____

 

Legolas hurtled along the hallway, yelling and shouting, his arms outstretched. He bounded up to Ava, grabbed her and lifted her off her feet, swinging her around in circles until she was dizzy.  
“Unhand my woman,” Thranduil said, but his tone held no malice.  
Legolas set her back a little, still keeping hold of her. “Did you get married??”  
His father gave him a droll look, and did not answer.  
“No, we did not,” she replied for him. “We have a lot of matters to deal with Legolas, and we need your help. I need your help.”  
His baby blue eyes read the pain in hers, and he nodded. “I will help in any way I can,” he said.  
“We have much to discuss,” Thranduil said. “Fetch the captain of the guard, and meet with us in the hall as soon as you can.” He reached for her hand as he spoke, curling his fingers protectively around hers.  
She absorbed the warmth from him.  
Legolas nodded and disappeared, and soon they were seated in the main hall where the council meetings were held. Thranduil sat Ava beside him, where he could keep her hand tightly in his own.  
Between them, they relayed why she had left, and the implications of her return to the palace.  
Legolas exchanged glances with the captain, as he sat back in his seat and folded his arms. “You must have gone through hell, Ava,” he said in sympathy.  
She took a deep breath. “It was not easy,” she agreed.  
Beside her, Thranduil squeezed her hand comfortingly. “What we must do now is find out who Giron has arranged this with,” he said. “Ava feels it is someone close to me, so this conversation does not extend between the four of us.”  
“Of course, my Lord,” the captain said. “I will make discreet enquiries and see what I can find out amongst the soldiers of the company. I will report anything I find to you straight away.”  
“Good,” he responded. “Legolas – I want you to be with Ava any time she is not with me.”  
Legolas nodded, much to her dismay.  
“No!” she cried. “I do not need protection! You need protection! This is not about me anymore, it is revenge against you because you intervened in what my uncle had planned.”  
“Yes, and he will strike out at you also – sometimes I have an instinctive notion too,” he said. “Believe me, when his attempt towards me fails, and it will, he will turn on you.”  
She shook her head. “I do not see it,” she said.  
“I can see where Father is coming from,” Legolas put in. “If Giron fails in his attempt on his life, he will try to destroy him in other ways. And what would hurt him the most? Hurting you.”  
She fell silent, acknowledging to herself that he could be right.  
Thranduil gazed at her with watchful eyes. “You will be protected at all times,” he said softly. “No-one will get near you, or have the chance to harm you in any way.”  
“I cannot help but think I have made the wrong decision,” she said, her tone low. Legolas and the guard both leaned forward to hear what she was saying. “There is so much at risk with me coming back.”  
“I will not lose the very reason my heart beats,” Thranduil replied, his tone matching hers.  
Worried blue eyes met his ice blue ones, and he smiled in reassurance. The captain leaned back, a little embarrassed at his King showing his vulnerable side, while Legolas smiled. His father was happy.  
*****

 

Gently swirling her hand around in the warm bubbles, Ava stared off into the distance, lost in thought. A gentle splash behind her brought her back to reality, and she looked over her shoulder to see Thranduil lowering himself into the water. Long legs wrapped around her and pulled her backwards, and she found herself leaning against his solid, warm chest.  
“I thought I could help you bathe,” he said, lifting the washcloth from the rocks at the side and pouring perfumed liquid onto it. His feet settled on the base of the pool on either side of her, his knees drawn up so she could lean her arms on them. With gentle motions, he soaped her down and rinsed the bubbles from her. Warm fingers massaged the back of her neck, exposed as she had her hair swept up out of the water after washing it.  
Purring in contentment, she closed her eyes and relaxed. “You have magic hands,” she murmered, a smile on her face.  
“I have magic everything,” he replied, making her laugh.  
“Yes, you do,” she agreed. “I have a question for you.” She turned in the water to face him. “Where is your room?” she asked.  
He smiled, his ice blue eyes sparkling. “This is my room.”  
She blinked. “But...I slept here for months,” she said, frowning in confusion.  
His smile widened. “Yes.”  
“So...you put me in your room?”  
He took a deep breath. “Yes. The night you were attacked by the guard down in the dungeon, I brought you straight here, where I knew you would be safe and I could look after you. After that, it just felt natural for you to stay here.”  
“So where did you sleep? Up until we told each other how we felt?”  
“There are plenty of empty rooms here,” he told her. “I stayed in one of those.”  
“I kicked you out of your own bed,” she murmered, playing with his hair.  
“And warmly invited me back in it,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her. “And what a welcome back it was, my love.”  
She grinned, recalling the first time they had made love. “I was so nervous,” she said.  
A frown arched down over his perfect eyes. “Because you had a secret that you should have shared with me.”  
“Maybe. Maybe also nerves because I had fallen for you such a long time before that, and it was like...I do not know...a dream come true?”  
He leaned his head back and laughed. “You know how to flatter a man’s ego,” he said, looking back at her. “I was nervous also.”  
She nodded. “I did wonder.”  
“But here we are,” he said softly, the look in his eyes changing.  
She smiled. “I have another question, but...”  
He tilted his head to one side. “Ask me anything, my love.”  
She chewed the inside of her mouth, before shaking her head. “No. It does not matter. Forget I said anything.”  
He frowned as she stood up and stepped out of the water, wrapping a towel around herself. “Ava, talk to me,” he said, following suit and winding a towel around his hips. “What do you want to know?” Ice blue eyes searched hers as she turned to him.  
She sighed, lowering her head. “I do not wish to upset you or anger you,” she said.  
He sat down on the bed, pulling her to stand in front of him and holding both her hands in his. “You will not upset or anger me. You are going to be my wife, you can talk to me about anything.”  
Deciding to risk it, she took a deep breath. “I want to ask you about the scar you have.”  
“I...what scar?” he asked.  
“On your face,” she said softly, sliding her right hand free from his hold and slowly caressing the left side of his face.  
“How do you know about that?” he asked, dropping his gaze to the floor.  
“I saw it,” she replied.  
“When?”  
“That morning in the dungeon,” she said. “When you came down to talk to me, and I got angry with what you said. Remember I slapped you?”  
He smiled a rueful smile, still looking at the floor. “Yes.”  
“You spun your head to the side,” she said.  
“You hit me with a lot of anger and force,” he reminded her.  
“When you turned back, I saw the scar.”  
His eyes lifted to hers. “I am sorry you saw that,” he said.  
She shook her head. “Do not be. Do not be ashamed of it. You do not need to hide anything from me, not anymore.”  
He sighed. “There was a war...many years ago. We faced the Great Serpents of the North. I came off badly during the fighting and I was burned.”  
She leaned forwards and kissed him gently on his left cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  
He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head on her chest. “My control must have slipped...I was so shocked when you hit me. People do not usually see what I keep hidden.”  
“I feel bad that I hit you,” she admitted, running her hands down the back of his head. “Especially when I realised who you were. I was sure you would kill me. And I felt even worse when I fell in love with you.”  
He lifted his head and stared at her, and she felt like she was drowning in his blue eyes. “I would not harm a hair on your head,” he whispered. “I told you...I fell in love with you the day I grabbed you in the forest. I knew at that moment that I was no longer in control of my heart.”  
She gave him a gentle, loving smile. “I was not too far behind you. And like you, I did not want to fall in love. I wanted to hate you, I wanted to throw away everything you had told me, and go back to my own life. But I fell too deep, too quickly. And I am glad I did, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”  
“And you to me,” he whispered, framing her face with his hands and drawing her down to him. His lips met hers in the softest caress, a tender, loving kiss that promised everything from starbursts to rainbows and everything in between.  
*****

 

“Oh my God, this is not working out,” Ava grunted in frustration.  
Beside her, Legolas laughed heartily. “You must learn patience,” he told her. “My father is right – you fight with your emotions. Try to shut them out and have a clear mind.”  
She glared at him and whipped another arrow from the quiver on her back. He grinned good-naturedly.  
Facing the target, she took a deep breath and worked at clearing her mind. Lifting her bow, she stared along the line of the arrow, focusing ahead. She closed off everything in her mind, sealing herself away from the outside world. The feathers on the arrow brushed her ear, and when she felt the timing was right, she released the projectile. It flew through the air and split the end of Legolas’s arrow.  
Letting her breath out with a hiss, she lowered her bow, and turned to find her instructor grinning with pride.  
“I knew you could do it,” he said. “I just knew it. You just have to trust yourself.”  
She started to laugh, thrilled at the result, and ran a hand through her hair. “I never thought I’d do it,” she exclaimed. “Damn...that feels good!”  
“And so it should,” a deep, velvet voice behind her said.  
She turned to see Thranduil emerging from the woods on Belroch’s back, and immediately felt a yearning ache between her legs.  
“That was an incredible shot to make,” he went on. “Only a handful of warriors can achieve it.”  
“How long have you been here?” she asked, internally screaming at her libido to calm down.  
Legolas hooted with laughter, and turned away at his father’s scowl.  
“Not long,” Thranduil replied.  
Ava cocked an eyebrow.  
He smiled, sending her accusing thoughts scattering in all directions. “Ride back with me?”  
She turned to Legolas, he nodded his approval. “I intend to drop in on some friends on the way home,” he said.  
Satisfied at the knowledge that she was not abandoning him, she stepped over foliage as she went over to his father. She stopped beside Belroch, running a hand down the horse’s long neck.  
Thranduil leaned down and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her up onto the animal with ease and a gentle touch. Settling her back against him, he did his usual practice of holding her with his left arm while guiding the horse with the reins in his right.  
“I watch you practice quite often,” he admitted after a while as they travelled.  
She twisted her head up and round to look at him. “You do?”  
He smiled. “Yes.”  
“How long have you been doing that?” she asked.  
His smile widened, and she sensed he was a little embarrassed. “Since you started your training,” he replied. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”  
“Aww,” she laughed. “Big softy.”  
He pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Where you are concerned, my love, yes. I am.”  
Her eyes grew serious. “Then you understand why I am so concerned with keeping you safe also,” she said. “It works both ways, even if you do not approve.”  
He shrugged half-heartedly. “I do understand. I also understand that every time I go into battle, the chances are you will appear, even though my guards are under strict orders to keep you away. Yet somehow you always seem to elude them.”  
“I am more devious and determined than they are,” she said.  
“Maybe I am not threatening them enough,” he muttered.  
She laughed. “It doesn’t matter what you threaten them with – I will always fight at your side. If you do not understand and accept that by now, maybe you never will. But you cannot change this.”  
He leaned his chin on her shoulder as they rode, a soft sigh flowing gently past her ear. “We will discuss this matter in the future,” he told her.  
She snorted in disgust.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Ava practiced relentlessly with her archery and her sword-fighting. Legolas and his father provided invaluable support and guidance, teaching her as much as she could absorb every day. She spent hours and hours going through each move, each shot, determined to master both skills and to excel beyond what anyone, including herself, thought her capable of.  
She had just finished a session of sword practice, which Thranduil’s captain of his guards had coached her through, as the King was busy. Entering the room they shared, she shrugged her sweaty clothes off, stepping over them as they dropped to the floor, and immersed herself in the luxuriously warm rock pool.  
She soaked her aching muscles in the water, letting her mind drift. She had had another vision of Thranduil, the same as the previous one which had driven her from his arms in the first place. Having decided not to worry him further, she had kept it to herself and fretted when she was alone. He had remained blissfully unaware of her inner torment, and she felt bad at hiding things from him. Aware though that he was immersed in trying to stop a battle between elves from two neighbouring lands, she told herself that he had enough on his mind to contend with.  
Standing up in the pool, she used both hands to sweep her hair out of her face. It had grown quite a lot in the six months she had been away from the palace, skimming her buttocks as she moved. She reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself.  
Unknown to her, Thranduil had come into the room silently, and stood on the other side of the room watching her.  
He hardened instantly at the sight before him. Water cascaded down her body, and he clenched his teeth as she raised her arms to sweep back her hair. The motion made her full breasts lift slightly, her pink nipples standing hard and proud.  
His mouth went dry.  
She lifted one shapely leg and stepped out over the ridge of rocks that surrounded the pool, small streams of water running down her calf to her foot.  
He stepped forwards, fighting for some sort of self-control.  
“Hey,” she said softly, as she looked up and saw him.  
Her heart missed a beat. She knew that look.  
Lust and passion blazed in his eyes. He walked over to her but didn’t stop, backing her against the wall. Lifting both her wrists with one of his hands, he pinned them to the wall above her head, deftly undoing the towel with the other.  
She gasped as the towel dropped to the floor, her sensitive breasts coming into contact with the soft velvet of his tunic.  
Ice blue eyes stared down into hers, unflinching and unblinking. The heat burning in them took her breath away, and she stared back at him, waiting for whatever he planned to do to her.  
His eyes dropped to her mouth, which she automatically lifted for his kiss. A groan of animal hunger sounded from him as their lips touched, hers parting instantly and giving him access. He kissed her with bruising passion, his free hand caressing up and down her side. His tongue led hers in an erotic dance which sent her senses into overdrive, and the burning ache between her legs intensifying to an almost painful level. Her insides throbbed with need for him, a desperate need which he picked up through her response to him.  
She panted for breath as he tore his mouth away from hers, exploring the side of her neck as she felt him undoing his trousers. Within a few seconds she felt him free himself, and press insistently against her abdomen, hot and hard.  
And huge.  
“I keep promising myself that I will teach you the art of making love,” he whispered against her flesh. “Yet every time I take you, I cannot slow down enough to do so.”  
“We have forever to teach and learn,” she gasped, arching her back as his tongue flicked across one of her nipples. “Oh my God...”  
He drew her nipple into his mouth, teasing and tormenting her, driving her wild. Her knees seemed unable to support her weight, and she was glad he had her pinned against the wall.  
He released her wrists and lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing into her with one swift thrust. She howled in pleasure, tightening her legs around him as he pushed her back against the wall.  
“You are going to be the death of me, my fiery little elf,” he gasped as he flexed deep inside her.  
A brief image of what she had seen flashed before her eyes, but she pushed it aside and concentrated on the god in her arms. Tangling her hands in his hair, she met his open-mouthed kiss with her own, silently begging him to do whatever he pleased to her.  
His hips rocked into her, each thrust sending her higher and higher. Her nipples brushed the velvet tunic with his movements, each thrust stimulating her further. He dropped his hands to her buttocks and squeezed, passion making him a little rougher than he intended. She twisted and turned as she tried to deepen their already-intense, intimate kiss, desperate for everything he had to give, desperate for him.  
Her back pressed hard against the wall, and she was eternally grateful for the support as his tempo increased. He circled his hips as he pushed home, making her cry out at the added sensation. The fluid soaking her inner thighs turned him on even more, and he struggled to hold back as he wanted her to reach satisfaction first.  
“Tell me what you want,” he panted against her mouth. “Tell me what you need.”  
“I need you,” she gasped. “I need to come. I need everything. Harder.”  
Her words ignited yet another furnace in him, her pants and groans of lust sending him high into the orbits of sexual desire. He slammed his hips into hers, each thrust dragging a deep groan from her. Her body tensed, she arched her back, and dug her fingers into his upper arms as she cried out.  
Her body erupted in an orgasm that made her scream in pleasure, her whole body pulsating and trembling. He lifted his hands up her back to her shoulders, burying his face into her neck as he squeezed his eyes closed. Her insides clenched him tight, her hot, wet fluid drowning him as he plunged faster. The room spun around him at dizzying speed as he reached his pleasure zone and he pumped into her hard, convinced he had never felt anything like it in his life. His orgasm crept up and kept him balanced on the precipice, until she lowered her hands and dragged her nails down his back to his buttocks.  
Exploding into her with a muffled groan, he leaned his full weight against her. His breathing came in uneven gasps, his body exhausted but so very satisfied.  
They stayed against the wall for a few minutes, each trying to regain normal breathing and heartbeat rates.  
Eventually he pulled back a little, searching her eyes as he lifted stray hair away from her face with such a tender, loving touch. “I am sorry my love...I was too rough,” he whispered.  
“No you were not,” she replied, pulling him to her and kissing his swollen mouth. “I loved every second. I always do.”  
She have him tiny little butterfly kisses, and gradually he relaxed enough to slowly pull out of her. Carefully sliding her down his body, he lowered her to the floor and steadied her on her feet.  
“I’m afraid yet again, I lost control,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish.  
“There is nothing wrong with that,” she told him. “Sometimes a woman does not need slow and gentle.” A smile accompanied her words.  
“I love you so much, _Nin mel _,” he murmered as he caressed her lips with his.__  
“And I love you so much more,” she whispered back. Her arms went up around his neck as she held him to her. “And I always will.”  
“I came to ask you if you were hungry,” he said, his eyes holding her prisoner. “But I seem to have forgotten.”  
She laughed, caressing his cheek with one hand. He turned his head and placed an open-mouthed kiss in her palm. “If you are asking me to join you for lunch, then I accept. But I should put something suitable on.”  
“Yes,” he agreed with a frown. “If I catch any of my guards looking at you, I will have their heads.”  
She laughed again. “Then let me get dressed,” she said. “Then you will have no excuse for slaughtering your employees.”  
He released her and watched her walk towards the bed, where she had laid out a long, flowing dress of pale lemon silk. She picked it up and was about to put it over her head, when he stepped towards her and took it from her.  
“Let me,” he said, lifting her arms into the sleeves. He pulled the luxurious fabric into place, covering the curves which drove him out of his mind, and lowering the skirt down around her legs. “Beautiful.”  
Wondering what she had done in life to deserve someone like him, she shook her head to clear it. “What are we having for lunch?” she asked. “And please fix your trousers, before I have to start slaughtering the female staff for ogling you and what you have hidden in there.”  
He threw his head back and laughed, the sheer beauty of him sending sparks through her already satisfied and sated body.  
“I thought maybe chicken,” he replied as he fastened his clothing. He took her hand and led her from the room. “Or maybe you would like something else?”  
“Chicken is fine,” she replied. “I asked Faron to pick some of those sweet little tomatoes this morning; I hope he has had the time to do it.”  
“I will remove his hand if he has not,” Thranduil growled under his breath.  
She flipped her head around and stared at him, not breaking stride as they walked down the hallway.  
“What? My love has requested something, it is his duty to fulfil that request,” he defended himself, a little embarrassed at her acute hearing picking him up.  
“You really should relax,” she said dryly. “He is a great cook, you are lucky to have him.”  
He ‘ _hmphh _’ed softly, but let the subject drop.  
*****__

_____ _

 

They enjoyed their meal together. Thranduil asked her a few times if she wanted wine, but she declined in favour of water. Instinct was telling her she needed a clear head, although she couldn’t work out why. Nevertheless, she followed that inner voice, deciding that maybe it knew more than she did and had a reason for making itself heard.  
Afterwards, she wanted to settle in Thranduil’s book room, and he had a meeting with some of his guards. She left him with a kiss, and wandered along to the hall where the secluded room sat high up in the stone wall. As she searched the hundreds and hundreds of books, nothing caught her eye or enticed her to delve into the pages.  
She gave up with a sigh of annoyance, deciding instead to go and check on the two horses she and Thranduil rode daily. She left the hall and headed back through the palace to the bedroom to pick up a soft wrap to cover her bare arms.  
*****

 

Thranduil held a hand up to cut off what one of his guards was saying, his head lifting sharply as his son burst through the door, panting hard.  
“It’s Voron,” he gasped. “He’s managed to escape the dungeons. Three of the guards are dead. He’s gone.”  
A collective gasp went round the assembled guards.  
Thranduil rose from his seat, cold anger clear on his face. “Find Ava. Stay with her and keep her safe until you hear from me,” he ordered.  
Legolas nodded and disappeared.  
“Search the palace,” he continued, turning to his guards. “Turn every corner inside out – find him. Bring him to me.”  
“Yes, my Lord,” they mumbled, swiftly rising and leaving the room.  
Thranduil took a moment to collect his thoughts, before following them out and slamming the heavy door at his back.  
*****

 

Ava paused as she reached the doorway of the bedroom, and draped her wrap over her left arm. She gently ran her right index finger along the body of her bow, which sat propped up against the wall. Picking up an odd sensation, she tilted her head in confusion. Dropping the wrap to the floor, she picked up the weapon, inspecting it.  
Something strong surged through her veins, sweeping around her body. A tingling, electrifying feeling, almost like an adrenalin rush.  
She frowned, and glanced around the otherwise empty room.  
*****

 

Thranduil stepped down off the last stone step and took a stride forwards in his search for Ava. He gasped and crashed to his knees as a solid blow from behind knocked him completely off-balance. His hands shot out and broke the impact as he landed heavily.  
Blinking the waves of pain away from the impact of the blow, he made as if to stand, but he felt another agonising thud against the back of his neck, sending him off-balance.  
“You think you are so much better than anyone else,” a voice snarled in his ear.  
_Voron _.__  
“You think you are infallible because you are a King, but you are not. You think you can take what you want, abuse who you want, destroy who you want. You cannot. You will do it no longer.”  
Thranduil remained silent, fearing he would anger him further. He had to know where Ava was, and that she was safe with Legolas. Until he had that knowledge, he did not want to risk anything.  
“You will never marry Ava,” Voron hissed. The venom and hatred practically dripped from his voice. “I will see to that. I would have made her happy, but you had to throw your weight around and take her from me.”  
“She was never yours to take,” he said quietly.  
“Yes she was!” Voron roared. “I would have made her my wife! But you could not resist taking what should have been mine! Then you turned your back on me! I dedicated my life to you, and that is how you paid your gratitude.”  
“She will never be yours,” Thranduil said.  
“We will see,” Voron growled, grabbed his hair and yanked his head right back, exposing his neck.  
*****

____

 

Ava padded silently in bare feet around the pillar, unsure of where her instinct was taking her. The palace was almost empty, with very few workers around. Puzzled, she had kept herself to herself, listening instead to her gut feeling. That gut feeling had led her to the throne room.  
She stopped dead.  
Thranduil was on his knees.  
His head pulled back.  
A sword at his throat.  
_Exactly like her vision _.__  
Sliding an arrow into place, she lifted her bow and took aim. Voron was partially in her line of vision, obscured mostly by Thanduil’s body. She needed a good, clear shot before she could stop this.  
Her focus went past the tip of the arrow, homing in on her target. Her eyes lifted briefly to Thranduil’s, and the look in his eyes almost stopped her heart.  
_I am sorry, Nin mel. I promised I would not die. I am unable to fulfil that promise. I will love you forever _.__  
His voice spoke perfectly clear in her mind, although his lips had not moved. The sadness in his eyes as he held her gaze was almost like defeat, like he was saying goodbye.  
She blinked hard, once, to let him know she had heard him.  
Behind him, Voron tightened his grip on the handle of his sword, and moved just a fraction, no more than a hair’s breadth.  
That was all she needed.  
She let the arrow fly, and a split second later it flew past Thranduil’s throat, the feathers brushing his skin as it passed, and embedded itself in Voron’s neck.  
He screamed and jumped back, blood spurting from the deep wound. He staggered back a step or two, and lurched sideways.  
Thranduil rolled to the side and flew to his feet.  
The former guard swung his sword half-heartedly, his strength waning as his blood poured down his body.  
Thranduil kicked his arm and knocked the weapon out of his grasp, catching it as it flew up in the air, and drove it deep into his stomach.  
Ava let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, as the blade protruded from Voron’s lower back. He gargled and stumbled, crashing to his knees. Thranduil kept hold of the sword, towering over him. The weapon withdrew with a squelch as the fatally injured man slid to the floor, gasping his last breath.  
Ava’s shoulders dropped in relief. She started to tremble violently.  
Thranduil turned his head and saw her, and stepped over the body at his feet, crossing to her quickly and crushing her in his arms.  
She started to cry, holding on to him like she would never let him go. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her, as he murmered soft words in his own language to soothe her. Her whole body shook in shock, her mind numb. Violent sobs tore through her, as she absorbed what had just happened. And what Voron had almost succeeded in accomplishing.  
“Ssshh my darling, everything is alright,” Thranduil whispered, kissing her neck and her face. “It is over.”  
She gasped for breath as he pulled back to look at her, his worried eyes searching hers. She blinked hard, trying to quench her flow of tears.  
“You did it, my love,” he said, his tone low and soft as he wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “You changed the future. You changed what you saw.”  
She drew in a shuddering breath as she nodded. Then she shook her head. “I almost could not make the shot,” she said, her voice raw.  
“But you did,” he reminded her. “I am here to prove it.” He offered her a gentle smile, which refuelled her flow of tears. Pulling her tightly against him again, he buried his face in her hair as he tried to comfort her and ease her from her state of shock.  
She closed her eyes and fused herself to him, soaking up his strength, his warmth, and the fact that he was alive in her arms, despite what she had foreseen.  
Heavy, rapid footsteps echoed through the hall as Legolas and a few guards appeared.  
They stopped, taking in the scene before them.  
Voron lying dead in a pool of blood with an arrow embedded in his neck. His sword lying on the floor covered in blood. The King with his arms around Ava, who was sobbing against his shoulder.  
Her bow which lay discarded at her feet.  
Piecing two and two together, Legolas crossed over to them, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You did it, Ava,” he said quietly. “You believed in yourself.”  
She did not answer, mostly because she was incapable of taking anything in apart from the man she held in her arms.  
Legolas patted his father’s shoulder, they exchanged silent nods, and he turned, taking the guards with him as they left the hall.  
Ava continued to cry in Thranduil’s arms.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

 

“Why did you say goodbye to me?”  
Thranduil turned his head and looked at Ava, who was sitting beside him on the forest floor, his cloak around her shoulders and wrapped around her knees.  
“Because I did not believe I was going to live,” he said quietly, after a long silence.  
A silent tear trickled down her cheek as she gazed into the fire that burned a few feet before them. “I could not go on without you,” she whispered. “I am bound to you for life, and there is nothing I can do about it.”  
He swallowed. “Is that something that troubles you?” he asked, as he picked up a twig and drew patterns in the soil.  
She shook her head, tearing her gaze away from the fire and meeting his eyes. Sad ice blue gazed back at her. “No. But I realised at that moment that if you were to die, I would too. Maybe not physically, but everything else within me would die.” She lowered her head and rested it on her drawn-up knees. “There is no meaning to my life or my existence if you are not with me to share it.” Her eyes closed in exhaustion, both physical and emotional.  
“I will always be in your life, my love,” he said softly. The fire crackled as the dry logs burned. “I am always standing shoulder to shoulder with you, even when we are not in the same room.”  
She opened her eyes again, her gaze drifting somewhere beyond him. “This feeling...it is so intense, I cannot control it,” she said.  
“What feeling?” he questioned.  
She drew her gaze to meet his. “What I feel inside. The love I feel for you.”  
He smiled slightly. “The feeling of being in love is the most amazing feeling to ever exist,” he told her, as he continued to draw patterns, flicking his eyes up to hers occasionally. “It completely absorbs a soul, it sucks you into a vortex and takes total control. You cannot fight it, you cannot stop it.”  
“I would not want to,” she said. “But it is so strong. You are all I can ever think about...I am not used to it.”  
“Because you have never loved before,” he said. He tossed the twig and pulled his knees up, resting his arms on them and his head on top of them, the way she was sitting. Only a few inches separated them, and the firelight reflected off his eyes, hypnotising her. She stared deep into his eyes, still in shock over how close her prediction had come to being true, and in shock at just how much this man meant to her. He blinked lazily, giving her time to process what was going through her mind.  
“I do not know how to deal with what I feel,” she said eventually.  
“You have never been taught how our kind function,” he told her. “Your uncle had an obligation – for lack of a better word – to teach you the ways of the elves, the nature, the instincts. He purposefully kept it all from you so you would be under his control.”  
She raised her eyebrows slightly in agreement.  
“When a elf falls in love, truly falls in love, they almost never love that way again, ever,” he said.  
Her eyes lowered away from his.  
“My life is different,” he said, knowing exactly where she was in her mind. “My wife was killed – therefore eventually the intensity of what I felt gradually faded through the centuries. There was nothing I could do about that, but whatever was meant to happen, happened. Do not try to compete with a ghost Ava, there is nothing to compete with. The past is gone, and the future lies before us.”  
Sad eyes lifted back to his.  
“While elves are only supposed to love once, it is different when they are separated by death,” he continued. His low, velvet voice washed over her. “I was given the opportunity to love again, and you blasted into my life without warning. I was unprepared.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I truly did not expect to ever feel anything again for a woman, ever. I fought hard Ava, I did not want to ache and grieve like I did many centuries ago. A man is only as strong as his heart makes him, and I could not stand the thought of facing that once more.”  
She remained quiet, feeling that his words needed no reply.  
“When elves fall in love and death does not come between them, they never part,” he went on. “The true bond of love ties them to each other for eternity, the connection is so strong. They never need to be with any other, or to look at any other. The only thing that can separate them is death.”  
Her eyes burned. “I almost lost you to death today,” she whispered.  
He could see her reliving what had happened, the horror reflecting in her eyes in the firelight. “But you did not. And that is what you must hold on to, not the ifs or maybes.”  
She shook her head, swallowing away the lump in her throat. “There was no room for mistake,” she whispered. “I had the smallest opportunity to kill him, but the shot was far too close to your throat. I don’t know how I managed to do it.”  
“Your inner warrior,” he answered. “A combination of that, your skills, and love.” He shrugged with a smile.  
A faint smile graced her mouth, relaxing him a little. He understood she was extremely fragile, the understanding that his life had literally been in her hands hitting home, and hitting home hard. The slightest flinch in her aim would have killed him instantly.  
“You are far stronger than you realise,” he said, reached over and tracing his fingertip along her cheek. “You have come through so much in the past year Ava, and you have adapted and adjusted accordingly. Everything you know has changed. Do not be too hard on yourself.”  
“Is that what I am doing?” she asked.  
He nodded. “Yes.”  
They sat for a while longer, content facing each other, absorbing the warmth from the fire. Eventually it burned down to only embers.  
Lifting himself to his feet, Thranduil held his hands out to help her up. She stood, facing him, and gazed up at him.  
“Take me home,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”  
*****

 

Ava stormed along the hallway, leaping down the steps and landing heavily at the bottom. Marching towards the dungeon, she nodded to the guard posted outside, who hurriedly unlocked the door and took off at her wave of dismissal. She strode inside, on a purpose.  
Giron sat in the corner, and lifted his head at her approach.  
She flew across the room, grabbing his clothing and hauling him to his feet, and threw him against the wall. “You bastard,” she hissed. “You complete, heartless bastard!”  
He grinned at her, unperturbed at her anger. “Did we have a bad day yesterday, Ava?” he taunted.  
“You are so evil, you are decaying from the inside,” she spat. “How did I never see the true you before now? How did you manage to keep it hidden so well from me?”  
“You see what you want to see,” he said.  
“No!” she shouted. “You showed me what you wanted me to see! You lied to me throughout my life, not one ounce of truth ever passed your lips, not one! And for what, greed? And when that failed, you arrange to murder the only person I have ever truly loved!”  
The evil grin remained. “Then you cannot birth his bastard children,” he smirked.  
She drew her fist back and punched him, hard. Blood oozed from his bottom lip, and he stared at her in shock.  
“Bitch!” he gasped. He grabbed her hair and twisted his fist in the long lengths, forcing her down to the floor. His sudden burst of strength caught her off-guard.  
She lifted both feet and booted his weight from her, sending him back a few steps. Leaping to her feet, she punched him again, furious anger flowing through her like fire. Hatred burned deep inside her, the ferocious flames out of control.  
Giron hit her, and as her head spun to the side, he punched her hard in the stomach, winding her and sending her to her knees. She swung her forearm upwards, connecting in between his legs and making him roar in pain and anger.  
The next thing she knew, an almighty roar of anger bellowed from behind her, and strong arms dragged her backwards. Thranduil twisted her away from her uncle, protecting her as he launched himself forwards. He whipped his sword out and drove it deep into his chest, halting his approach.  
Shock registered in Giron’s eyes, as he realised who it was standing before him. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, and his hands slowly lifted to the sword embedded in his chest.  
Thranduil withdrew his weapon, and he fell to his knees.  
“You...you are...not dead,” he gasped.  
The colour drained from his face and he fell sideways, as his life ended.  
Thranduil re-sheathed his sword, turning to Ava, who was staring at the body at his feet.  
She lifted her eyes slowly to his.  
Unable to read her emotions, he waited a few moments. This was, after all, the only parent she had ever known. “Ava?” he asked eventually, uncertainly.  
“Now it is truly over,” she whispered. “He can do no more damage.”  
“Come,” he said, gripping her hand. “You should not be down here.” He led her quickly out of the dungeon, barking orders over his shoulder to the guard, to remove and dispose of Giron’s body. He hurried her back upstairs and across to the hall where the council had their meetings. Ushering her inside, he locked the door behind them, and gripped her arms, turning her to face him.  
“What were you doing down there?” he demanded. Fury blasted through his eyes.  
“I wanted answers,” she said.  
“Answers? Ava, he could have killed you!” he shouted. “What were you thinking?”  
“I wanted revenge!” she shouted back. “He cannot mess around with people’s lives and not expect any repercussions! I would not let him get away with what he did to us!”  
“His attempt failed! There was no more he could do!”  
She blinked, her actions seeming logical to her.  
The anger dissipated from him, and he crushed her body to his. “You should never have gone down there,” he said into her hair. “You are too precious, _Nin mel _.”__  
She closed her eyes as she stood on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I did not tell him he had failed,” she said quietly. “I just attacked him.”  
Thranduil shook his head slightly at the image of his fiery little elf defending him against such an evil being. “You put yourself at risk,” he said.  
“Why did you go down there?” she asked.  
He pulled back and looked down at her. Questioning blue eyes stared back. “Because I awoke and found you gone,” he said. “I knew instantly where you were. I told you – I can read you, your eyes. I know how you think.”  
“Because you can get into my mind,” she said, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I know you can. I have felt you there.”  
“I did it only once, my love. I promise, I give you my word, I did it only once,” he said.  
“I know,” she replied. “And I know when it was.”  
He nodded, glancing downwards for a second. “If I had not, then you would not be alive,” he reminded her, lifting his eyes to hers again.  
“True,” she conceded.  
“Besides,” he said. “I looked for you and saw you tearing off towards the dungeons. Your intent was clear.”  
“And called for,” she grumbled. “I needed something...closure, maybe? I do not know. But I did not want him wallowing in his own satisfaction down there. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to take his head off for what he did to us, to you.”  
“I came to no harm, Ava. I came to no harm because of you. Like I said last night, let the past go. The future is what is important,” he said.  
Pursing her mouth, she nodded. “I know. Anyway – it is finished. He is gone, forever.”  
He lifted her hair and gently placed it behind her shoulder. “What do you want me to do with him?” he asked.  
A frown came down over her eyes. “I do not care. Bury him. Dump him. Burn him. It makes no difference to me. I have only one request.”  
“Anything,” he said.  
“Please do not dispose of him anywhere near here,” she said. “I do not wish to be reminded of him, of what he was capable of, and how close I came to losing you because of his actions, his hatred. I spent six long, lonely months away from you, and I died a little inside every day. Then yesterday happened. I cannot forgive him for that.”  
He nodded in understanding. “I am sorry I had to take his life though,” he told her. “I know he was the only family you had. But I have told you before, I would die to protect you. And if I do not, others who go against you, will.”  
“You did what you felt was right,” she said. “I have no regrets.”  
“Please do not put yourself in danger,” he pleaded. “You do not know what I felt when I saw you on the floor, and saw him striking you.”  
“Then I am sorry you felt like that,” she said, snuggling against his chest. “You mean everything to me, and I do not want to see you hurt.”  
His strong arms held her close, his strength and body heat permeating into her. She closed her eyes and sighed softly in contentment. The chapter was finished.  
*****

____

 

“Good God Almighty,” Ava muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “How on earth do you ever find anything in here?”  
Behind her, Faron laughed. “I have my own organised mess,” he told her. “I usually have an idea where things are.”  
“Yes, in the realms of the dark and beyond,” she tutted. “Honestly – this is just...oh I have no words for it. This needs tidying and organising properly.”  
His laughter echoed off the walls as he went about his cooking, leaving her to grumble and make threats to his store cupboard.  
Thranduil went down to check on her and found her cross-legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by boxes, bags, containers of all shapes and sizes, and scraps of parchment.  
He pulled his mouth in to suppress a smile. The frustration was clear on her face, and apparent in the way random containers were tossed angrily over her shoulder in fits and starts.  
Sensing she was not alone, she turned and saw him.  
“Save me! I need a kiss!” she wailed, holding both her arms up to him.  
He laughed, stepping over the mess and kneeling before her. He framed her face with both hands and kissed her tenderly. “What have you gotten yourself into?” he teased. Merriment twinkled in his ice blue eyes.  
“I’m damned if I know,” she retorted. “I need rescued.”  
“My Lord,” Faron greeted him as he ambled past with a tray of pastries.  
“What have you done to your future Queen?” Thranduil asked.  
“I did not ask her to do this, my Lord,” the cook replied hastily. “I said I could tidy this-“  
“He is teasing you, Faron,” she interrupted, before he could get any more flustered. “You-“ she tapped a finger against his chest “-stop it.”  
His devilish grin widened. “Are you going to join me for lunch?” he asked.  
She humphed. “If I can find my way out of here,” she replied, glancing in despair at the chaos around her. She looked at him. “Of course I will. I would never say no.” Her lips curved into a smile.  
He inhaled deeply, gazing at her mouth. “Then I shall return for you shortly,” he said. His eyebrows came down in a frown as she winced. “Is everything alright?”  
She nodded. “Yes. My stomach is a bit sore, that is all. Payback from this morning.”  
“Do you want the nurse to have a look at you?”  
“No,” she said. “I am fine.”  
His frown remained. “Do not overwork yourself,” he told her. “Remember, he was much stronger than you, and he could hit harder.”  
“Tell me about it,” she said dryly. “Go. Go do your King things, and let me know when you want to eat. I have plenty here to keep me occupied until then.”  
He hesitated, before crushing his mouth to hers. “I love you, _Nin mel _,” he whispered.__  
She smiled against his mouth. “I love you too.”  
“Do not let her over exert herself, Faron,” he said, rising to his feet.  
“No my Lord, I shall not,” the cook promised.  
With a last lingering look, he swept out of the kitchen area, leaving her with a smile on her face.  
*****

____

 

The afternoon passed without fuss. Ava immersed herself in her chosen task, breaking only to eat with Thranduil and sharing a few passionate kisses before returning to the kitchen. She had made decent progress, and had almost completed the huge larder. Standing back and putting her hands on her hips, she smiled in satisfaction.  
“Very good, Ava,” Faron observed, appearing at her side and nodding his approval. “That looks much tidier.”  
“Good,” she replied. “I have wanted to do this for a long time.”  
“It will definitely save me lot of time looking for things,” he said. “M’lady...are you alright?” Alarm sounded in his voice as she held her stomach, grimacing in pain.  
“I am fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I just had a rather physical disagreement with someone earlier today.”  
He watched her with concern. “I heard,” he murmered. “Do you wish me to fetch the King?”  
“No,” she said immediately. “There is no need.” The pain eased, and she straightened her back. “So...I have one more shelf, and this is completed.”  
“Do you think maybe you should rest?” the cook asked.  
She grinned. “I am perfectly fine,” she assured him. “The last shelf should not take too long. Hand me that box, please.”  
He lifted the required box and passed it to her.  
She took it from him, dropping it as she gasped in pain. She bent over, holding her stomach again.  
“I am fetching the King,” Faron said, and hurried from the kitchen.  
*****

 

Thranduil folded the parchment closed and handed it to his guard. “See that this is delivered by sunrise two days from now,” he instructed. “And-“  
“My Lord! My Lord, come quick! Ava needs you!” Faron shouted as he burst into the hall.  
Thranduil flew out of his seat and ran towards the door, leaving the guard in his wake. He hurried down to the kitchen area, coming to an abrupt halt.  
Ava sat in the corner leaning against the wall, her face pale. She was sweating heavily, gasping to breathe. Her knees were pulled up and slightly apart.  
Blood was pooling on the floor between her legs.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Gathering her in his arms, Thranduil hurried from the kitchen.  
“Get the nurse, now!” he roared to Faron, who had followed him. He made his way to their bedroom, shouldering the door open. Carefully lowering her onto the bed, he sank down beside her, taking her hands in his. “Ava, talk to me,” he urged.  
“So much pain,” she gasped. “So sore.”  
“Help is coming,” he told her. “Stay strong, my love. I am here with you.”  
“What is wrong with me?” she groaned, twisting in agony. She opened her eyes at his silence.  
Ice blue eyes held hers.  
“Tell me,” she whispered raggedly.  
He closed his eyes briefly. “You are bleeding outwith your normal cycle, my love. I can only think of one reason why that would happen.”  
She waited.  
He opened his eyes again. “Ava, are you pregnant?”  
She gasped in horror. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No. No. I cannot be.”  
“I am sorry, my love,” he said, squeezing her hands in his. “I do not know of another reason.”  
Grief took control of her, and she started to cry. “No, I cannot be losing a child,” she cried.  
“Ssshh,” he soothed, breaking one hand away from hers to smooth her hair. “Maybe I am wrong. We will see when the nurse gets here.”  
As soon as he had said the words, the elf who had nursed Ava previously hurried in, her cloth bag with her.  
“Help her,” he said, as she rounded the other side of the bed.  
“Of course, my Lord,” she replied, pressing gently on Ava’s abdomen.  
She screamed in pain.  
“I have to examine her, my Lord,” she said, anxiously. “Maybe it would be better if you left-“  
“No,” he snapped. “I am not leaving.”  
Ava gripped his hand in hers, refusing to release him.  
“But you should not see-“ the nurse began.  
“How do you think she came to be like this in the first place?” he interrupted angrily. “Believe me, if she is carrying a child, be assured it was I who put it there. Do your job.”  
“Of course, my Lord,” she said quietly, and lifted the skirts of Ava’s dress. She gently pried her knees apart, and sighed softly as she examined her. “I am so sorry, my Lord, m’lady,” she said sadly, shaking her head. “There is nothing I can do. The child is gone.”  
Thranduil closed his eyes as he leaned down to Ava, resting his cheek against hers, her hands still encased in his.  
The nurse lowered her dress back into position, and retrieved a small pouch of herbs from her bag. “Soak these in hot water, and have her drink it,” she said quietly, placing it on the bed. A second pouch was placed next to it. “Dissolve these in the water she uses to bathe. It will help her heal quicker.” She left them alone, closing the door quietly behind her.  
Thranduil scooped Ava in his arms and lifted her across his knees, tucking her head against his chest.  
“You will have blood on you,” she said, crying softly.  
“I do not care,” he replied. He rested his chin on top of her head. Sorrow stabbed into his heart. He had no idea she was carrying his child, and suspected she had not known either.  
She slowly lifted her head and looked up at him, tears her face streaked with tears. “His legacy did not end when he died,” she said softly.  
Sad eyes gazed into hers. He did not know what to say.  
She slowly leaned back against him.  
*****

 

Thranduil closed the door quietly behind him and crossed over towards the bed. Settling his weight next to Ava, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
“Ava, my love,” he said.  
Her eyes opened.  
He instinctively knew when he’d entered the room that she had not been asleep. “Drink this,” he said, handing her a cup. He had soaked the herbs left by the nurse.  
She turned her head away.  
He blinked in surprise. “Ava, you must take this,” he said.  
She didn’t reply. Instead she stared off into the distance.  
Troubled, he set the cup on the floor next to the bed, taking her hands in his. “You must take care of yourself, _Nin mel _. The mixture will help you heal faster.”__  
She remained silent.  
He was at a loss. Touching a hand to her cheek, he opened his mouth to speak again, but she swiftly turned away from his touch. Hurt, he withdrew his hand. “I shall let you rest,” he said eventually. “Please drink it.”  
He released her hands and rose to his feet, but she didn’t look at him. Sadness filled his heart as he went towards the door. He looked back at her, but she still wasn’t looking at him.  
He left the room, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he walked along the hallway.  
“How is she, father?” Legolas asked, appearing at his side.  
“Withdrawn,” he replied.  
His son matched his stride. “That is not good,” he acknowledged. “Has she said anything about the baby?”  
He shook his head as they continued to walk. “She has not said a single word. Nothing.”  
Legolas frowned. “She will come around, I am sure of it,” he said. “She has been through so much in recent times, maybe she feels overwhelmed. Everyone has their limits.”  
Thranduil nodded. “She is so strong, yet so fragile at the same time. I fear how much she can cope with.”  
Legolas slowed his pace, and his father stopped as he realised his son had fallen behind him. “Maybe...” he murmered.  
“Maybe what?” he asked.  
“Do you think Ava is feeling guilty? That she may be blaming herself?”  
Thranduil’s thick eyebrows came down in a frown. “I had not thought about that,” he said thoughtfully. “But I see where you are going with it.”  
“I could be wrong, but it could be a possibility,” Legolas said. He shrugged. “You will find out through time I suppose.”  
His father stared at him, but wasn’t really looking at him. His mind was on Ava, and the fact that Legolas might have an accurate point. The temptation to fuse himself in her thoughts crossed his mind, but he dismissed it as quickly as it had appeared. He had promised not to do that, and save the one occasion after searching for her for six months, he had kept to his word. She deserved privacy in her own mind as much as anyone else, and it would be intrusive of him to breech that privacy.  
“Have you eaten?” Legolas asked, breaking his line of thought.  
He shook his head. “No. I am not hungry.”  
“Then you will be of no use to her if you do not keep your strength up,” his son told him. “I am going to have something; why do you not join me?”  
“I do not think I could stomach anything,” Thranduil murmered, his thoughts back with Ava.  
“Then join me for some herbal tea or something,” Legolas insisted. “If you are not taking care of yourself, then I see I shall have to do so instead.” He bumped shoulders with him as he stepped forwards, urging him to follow.  
*****

____

 

Thranduil leaned over the wall, resting his forearms on the stone, gazing down intently into the courtyard.  
Below him, Ava sparred with his captain.  
She was different.  
Her fighting style was different, her energy was different, her drive was different.  
She was vicious, unyielding.  
She had not spoken since miscarrying their child almost a week before. Nobody had been able to get her to speak, and she had shunned contact with everyone, including himself. At night she either slept on the other side of the bed away from him, or got up and disappeared into the darkness. Many times he had reached out to comfort her, but she had dodged him and moved out of reach.  
His heart was bleeding.  
He hated to see her in so much pain, so much anguish. The trials of the past months seemed to be piling up on her shoulders, and she was obviously struggling to cope. She spent a lot of time with Belan, often going out riding alone against his wishes and not returning until well into the night.  
He was frantic with worry. He too grieved for the loss of the child neither had known had been growing inside her, and he needed her. But she had closed everybody out, and unless he had hooves, feathers, or paws, he didn’t seem to be in with a chance of breaking through the barricade she had constructed around herself.  
He watched as she threw her entire weight behind the swing of her sword, knocking his captain’s out of his grasp and skittering across the cobbled surface they fought on. The tip of her sword pressed against his throat, and for a heart-stopping second Thranduil thought she was going to follow it through.  
A soft sigh of relief left him as she withdrew her weapon, twirling it around as she re-sheathed it and turned away from her opponent. Her gaze lifted and she faltered slightly in her step as she locked gazes with him, but she recovered and kept walking.  
“Today’s practice with Ava was interesting,” he said later that evening, as he lounged in his seat, one knee crossed leisurely over the other.  
His captain raised his eyebrows. “Yes. That is certainly one way to describe it,” he said.  
“Is there anything I should know?” his King asked.  
The man swallowed, visibly nervous. “I think maybe m’lady requires someone a little more...advanced in sword-fighting to challenge her skills,” he said.  
Thranduil didn’t show any emotion. “You mean you cannot handle her anymore?”  
The captain looked down.  
He uncrossed his legs, shifting position. “I will resume with her tomorrow.”  
The other man looked more than a little relieved. “Truth be told, my Lord, I fear for my survival these last few sessions,” he admitted. “She fights well, but she seems to be fighting through anger. I worry that she may go too far.”  
“Worry not,” Thranduil said. “I assure you I can manage her.”  
The captain nodded. “If I am allowed to say so my Lord – I think you are probably the only one who can.” He rose from his seat, bowed in respect and left the hall, leaving Thranduil staring after him.  
Maybe the captain had a point. Ava was yet again fighting with her emotions, and at the stage where his highly skilled fighters were scared to practice with her, in case they ended up minus an appendage.  
Knowing he had the skill to keep all his body parts, he also had a much deeper connection, and knew that she would never hurt him. But at the same time she wasn’t thinking with a clear head, and she was letting her inner demons drive her. Maybe him resuming her training would be beneficial for both of them.  
*****

 

Ava stood in the middle of the giant hall, her hands on the handle of her sword, the tip against the floor. Her eyes were lowered, as she gazed intently down at the steel blade.  
The door opened, and she slowly lifted her eyes to see Thranduil walking towards her, his sword at his side.  
No captain? No difference. Her mission was to train, and who she trained with held no importance to her.  
He came to a halt before her, waiting to see if she spoke.  
She did not.  
She lifted her sword and held it up in front of her, inspecting the blade. Her gaze shifted and she met his, her eyes cold. Swinging the sword at speed, she flew at him.  
He reacted immediately, defending himself and reflecting her blows. Steel crashed against steel in a series of angry screeches, the noise echoing around the vast hall. He counter blocked every move, but had to move fast and think on his feet. She fought with tireless energy, every step and movement honed to perfection.  
Thinking his captain had been right to fear for his own safety, Thranduil turned it around and attacked her, forcing her to defend.  
She matched him step for step, her eyes never leaving his as she anticipated every move. Sweat trickled between her shoulder blades as she moved with speed. The heavy sword seemed to weigh nothing in her hands, and she wielded it as though it was a plaything.  
Thranduil didn’t break a sweat. He remained stoic, cool and collected, as he pushed her to test her limits. Although a little surprised at the anger which drove her, he matched her move for move, mentally agreeing with his captain that she needed someone who could match her.  
The thought ran through his mind that being six feet five was a definite advantage, as her five feet eight frame led him in a rapid, frantic battle across the floor. He had a longer reach, and found himself relying on it as she fought viciously against him. Her sword swished through the air at lightning speed, often just missing him and no more.  
He whipped his sword upwards, knocking hers aside, and grabbed her wrist in his left hand. His fingers closed around her in an iron grip, rendering her sword arm useless. The weapon fell from her grasp and clattered to the floor as she stared at him.  
Cold, ice blue eyes held hers, not blinking.  
The seconds ticked past.  
“Please do not do this to me,” she whispered eventually, after a long, tense silence.  
“Do what?” he asked, his voice low.  
She shook her head. “Push me into a corner.”  
He dragged her closer, until she was only a few inches from him. She could see the shards of blue ice in his eyes, and he could see the panic and anguish in hers. “I have no choice,” he said.  
She blinked, unable to tear her gaze away from his. She had always found his eyes hypnotising, and had started to fall in love with him the instant their eyes had met.  
Keeping his tight hold on her wrist, he slid his other arm around her, the flat edge of his blade tight against her back. “We need to talk,” he whispered.  
Panic flared from slow-burning embers to an inferno in her eyes. “I have nothing I want to talk about,” she said.  
“I do,” he replied. “We have not exchanged words in a whole week, Ava. This is the first time in seven days I have had physical contact with you. I am not the enemy, _Nin mel _, I am your lover, your soul mate.”__  
Tears burned her eyes. “I know,” she whispered.  
“Then do not push me aside like I do not have feelings,” he said softly. “I too grieve the loss of our child. But I need you to help me through it, and you need me to help you through it. We have stood united as one in battle, there is no reason we cannot stand united the same way in our sorrow.”  
“I do not know how to deal with what is happening,” she said. “Everything seems to be imploding on me at once. I cannot find a way through the chaos and the mess.”  
“It is my place to be at your side and find a way through it,” he told her. “Every beat of my heart is yours, Ava. Every breath I take is yours. United we are one, separated we are two. I cannot bear to be separated from you.”  
She shook her head, lowering her chin as she did so.  
He gently tipped her head up again with the pad of one finger. “The past has gone. Let it go.”  
Blinking tears away, she took a deep breath. “I killed your child,” she whispered.  
Pain sliced through him. “No you did not. You followed your heart and defended my honour, there was no way of knowing what the consequences would be. The blame lies buried elsewhere, and you must bury your guilt along with it.”  
She took another shuddering breath. “If I had not gone down to see him, our child would still be growing within me,” she said.  
“We do not know why fate stepped in,” he said. “Maybe it would have happened whether you went down there or not; there is no way of knowing. You did not see this child?”  
“No. I have not had any visions since two days before Voron died,” she replied.  
He frowned. “What vision did you have? You did not tell me.”  
“The same one as previously,” she told him. “I did not want to worry you with it. You were dealing with other things.”  
“I am never too busy for you! You should have shared this with me, not carried it around alone.” He searched her eyes. “But you never saw the child.”  
She shook her head.  
“Then maybe he or she was not meant to be a part of the future,” he said softly. “As much as it tears me apart, maybe fate knew something we did not.”  
“Maybe,” she murmered.  
“You must release your anger, my love. It changes you as a person,” he said. “I used to see someone who fought with passion, eagerness to learn. Now I see someone who fights with anger, destruction, and hatred. It is not the true you, and it can bring you no peace.”  
“I do not know any other way anymore,” she said sadly.  
“Then I will show you,” he promised. He slowly pulled her closer until she was pressed against him, lowering his lips to hers. Her eyes drifted closed as his warm mouth brushed hers in a tender touch, instantly yearning for more. His sword fell to the floor behind her as he released it and opened his hand so he could place it flat against her back, holding her tighter against him. He deepened the kiss, letting go of her wrist and sliding his left hand around her back. The hand he released slid up his chest and met the other one at the back of his neck as she clung to him.  
This was what would heal her shattered heart.  
His touch. His kiss. His love. Him.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

The servant placed a plate of scrambled eggs on the table in front of Ava, the steam rising off the freshly prepared food. He straightened and left the room without a word.  
She picked up her fork and pushed it around the plate. “I am sorry I pushed you away,” she said, breaking the silence.  
Thranduil’s eyes met hers. “I do understand,” he told her. “Your life has undertaken so many changes, and what happened recently has certainly added to your burden.”  
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug of acknowledgement. “Yet I took it out on you, and it has not been your fault,” she said. “If it was not for you, I would be held prisoner somewhere, birthing a generation of trolls for evil purposes.”  
He set his wine down next to his plate, lifting a slice of toast with scrambled egg on the top. “You never asked who it was that insisted I intervened,” he noted. He had wondered for months if she would enquire.  
“Someone I know?” she asked in surprise.  
“Know of,” he corrected her. “Mithrandir.”  
She sat back in her chair, watching him as he bit into the warm bread. “He does not know me,” she murmered.  
“No, but he knows of you, and he knows of the prophecy,” he said. “I think given his wisdom, he also knew what would happen if I did stop the trade-off going ahead.”  
“You mean, us?”  
He nodded. “He told me my life would change once I met the one who has the birthmark of the ancient symbol of fire and ice. I suppose he was right.”  
She smiled, continuing to push her food around the plate. “I am not sure if anyone knows of my birthmark,” she said.  
He stopped eating and watched her. Finally he leaned over, took the fork from her, scooped up some of the egg and lifted it to her mouth. “Eat.”  
She drew him a wry look.  
“Come on. Eat,” he repeated.  
Heaving a sigh, she gave in and opened her mouth, to which he deposited the food and then picked up some more.  
“I can feed myself,” she told him.  
“Yes, I am aware. However you do not seem to be doing it very well,” he remarked. “So I am the only one who knows about the birthmark, so close to such an intimate place.” A smirk formed around his lips.  
“You know you are,” she replied.  
The smirk transformed into a self-satisfied grin. “I am teasing you, _Nin mel _. I still remember our first night together.” His ice blue eyes lifted to hers, the look in them stopping her heart momentarily. “The gift you gave me that night was so precious. More precious than any gems or treasure.”__  
A pink blush tinged her cheeks. “I’m afraid I did not really regard it as a gift,” she murmered, lost in the depth of his eyes.  
“You and I see some things differently,” he said softly. “While you regarded it as being such a problem that you did not speak to me about it, I considered it to be the highest honour that you chose me to give it to.”  
She contemplated his words. “And I chose well,” she said. “Although I am not sure who chose who – if I chose you, or you chose me.”  
He smiled, continuing to feed her. “We chose each other.”  
“Your food is getting cold,” she pointed out.  
“And can be heated at any time,” he said. “My concern is making sure you eat. Your body needs nutrition.”  
“My body is fine,” she tutted.  
“I have no complaints,” he said, a sparkle in his eyes. “There. How difficult was that?” He rested her fork back onto the now empty plate.  
“Is this how you are going to be every time we have a meal?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, a look of amusement on her face.  
“If need be, then yes,” he replied. “You said something which has intrigued me, and I have never asked you what you meant by it.”  
“Which was?”  
“You said you had had no sexual experience.”  
Her cheeks heated again. “And your point is?”  
He shrugged. “I wondered why you would consider this an issue between us. I would have thought that a woman would tell her lover she is untouched so he can take his time with her, make it easier for her. Yet you did not.” Blue eyes stared into her soul. “It seemed almost as though you were ashamed.”  
She swallowed nervously. “Maybe I was,” she admitted softly.  
He leaned closer, capturing her chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning her face to his. “Why?”  
“Because your reputation precedes you,” she whispered. “You are known throughout middle earth for being a master in every skill, having the best taste in everything. And knowing that I would be giving you my body was intimidating.”  
His eyebrows came down in a frown. “I did not wish for you to feel that way,” he said, his tone low. “Anything but. I worship you, Ava. I wanted you to feel loved, cherished, adored. Because you are.”  
“And I do feel that,” she told him. “But at the time – I do not know...I wondered if I had taken on more than I could cope with.”  
His frown deepened, and he released her. “You place too much importance on trivial matters. There is nothing that cannot be taught, or learned.”  
“And without Legolas and yourself, this might just be the truth,” she acknowledged. “If I had not gone through so much training with you both, then you might not be here.”  
“I knew one day you would need the fighting skills of a warrior, although I did not know the reasons,” he replied, taking a sip of his wine. He held the cup over to her, urging her to do likewise. The intimate gesture seemed so poignant to her. “Maybe the need for you to fight has passed.”  
She shook her head as she swallowed. “No. I feel otherwise,” she said.  
Concerned blue eyes studied her. “I do not want you to have to pursue this, Ava,” he said finally. “Either myself or Legolas will always be at your side, so you should have no such need to rely on your own skills.”  
“That may be,” she agreed. “But I have fought alongside you, more than once.” A cheeky smile accompanied her statement.  
He gave her a hard look, but she didn’t bat an eyelid. “Yes, and that still annoys me.”  
The smile turned into a grin. “You really think I would have stood down, that day we raced home?” she asked.  
“I ordered you to,” he said, a tone of irritability in his voice.  
“Ha!” She leaned forward, taking her weight on her elbows as she brushed her lips against his. “You may be my King, you may be my lover, and you may be my future husband,” she whispered. “But I do not take orders.”  
Pushing herself to her feet, she left him with a mischievous smirk, his mouth open in surprise.  
*****

____

 

Indeed she did not take orders.  
Thranduil had told her he wanted her to rest often, but she was wide awake and frustrated. He had gone out with his guards attending some business or other, and she was bored. Sleep would not come to her, and she paced the palace, restless. Her body had healed rapidly, and she was back on top form. The guards, maids and other employees went about their tasks, and she found herself feeling a little isolated.  
Faron was surrounded by lots of the village children in the kitchens, and did not need her. Belan had been exercised already, and was resting in her stable. Not having the urge to read or do anything creative like drawing, she wandered out to the stables, thinking she would spend some time with the horse most precious to her.  
Belan lifted her head as she approached, leaning over the lower part of the door to greet her.  
“Hey, gorgeous girl,” she murmered, rubbing the velvet nose. The horse made soft noises, pleased to see her mistress. “How are you today, sweetheart?”  
She opened the door and stepped inside, Belan moving backwards a few paces to allow her to enter.  
“M’lady,” a voice said, and she turned to see Nardual, one of the stable hands.  
“Hi Nardual,” she greeted him. “How are you?”  
“I am fine, m’lady,” he replied as he hoisted a bale of straw up onto a pile in the corner. “And yourself?”  
She laughed. “Bored. The King is away for a time, and I find myself at a loss.” She grabbed the end of a bale and helped him lift it up.  
“The palace can be lonely sometimes,” he agreed. “I much prefer to spend my time out here with the horses.”  
“You probably get more intelligent conversation with them,” she said dryly. “Some of the staff do not speak. Sometimes I wonder if they have the ability.”  
He grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. “That is more likely through fear, m’lady,” he told her. “They are all scared of King Thranduil. Although...he has changed in this past year.”  
“Not my fault,” she laughed.  
“Indeed it is,” he corrected her. “The King has a much softer side to him now, a more tolerant attitude. We did not see this from him before you came here. You are good for him.”  
She lifted two brooms, tossing one across to him. “I had heard rumours of what he was like,” she said. “Maybe some people just need a positive influence in their lives to reach their full potential. Speaking of positive influences, how are things with your love life?”  
They chatted on as they swept out the stable, clearing waste and disposing of it. Belan watched them intently, quite content to have her mistress near her.  
“I think we deserve a break,” Ava said after an hour or so had passed. “I need some water, how about you?”  
“I will see to it, m’lady,” Nardual replied.  
“You shall not,” she said, holding a hand to halt him as he set the broom aside. “Come. It is beautiful outside, we can enjoy the sunshine.”  
She led the way out of the enclosure, heading for the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Nardual carried a cup, and handed it to her so she could fill it with the clear, cool water.  
“You first, m’lady,” he said, when she offered it to him.  
She took a long drink and handed it to him. “That is refreshing.”  
They wandered over to the wall surrounding a rest area for the guards, which stood about five feet tall. Nimbly hoisting herself up, she sat on it and took the cup from him so he could follow suit, then handed it back.  
*****

 

Thranduil pulled Belroch to a halt, his blood turning to ice.  
Ava sat on the wall next to the guards’ area, deep in conversation with one of the stable hands, swinging her feet. They sat close together, their shoulders almost touching. She was laughing, her head thrown back as she roared in hilarity. He watched as she pushed Nardual, and he started to laugh with her, wobbling to the side with her shove.  
His eyebrows lowered in a deep frown.  
Ava’s face turned serious, as she leaned her elbows on her knees, twisting a cup in her hands. She took a drink, passing it to her companion. He was too far away to hear what she said, but she seemed to speak in earnest, nodding her head and gesticulating with her hands as she spoke.  
Nardual gazed down at his feet, nodding once or twice, but not saying a lot. Ava touched his arm, shaking her head hard as she made a point. A sad smile curved the man’s lips as he looked at her.  
She sat upright and bumped his shoulder with hers.  
The conversation continued, with her listening intently as Nardual spoke.  
Ana glanced up, catching sight of him watching her. His face was a mask of unbridled hatred and anger, his eyes ice cold. Before she could react, he yanked the horse around and swiftly disappeared.  
Thinking that whatever he had gone to attend to had not gone well, she shrugged and continued her conversation.  
*****

 

Thranduil was furious.  
He had not felt this much anger in a long time.  
His guards argued between themselves, locked in heated debate below him as he sat on his throne. Every fibre in his body throbbed with rage.  
He turned his head slowly as the door to the hall opened and Ava appeared. She glanced at him as she entered, but did not approach.  
Instead, she crossed over to one of the guards, whispered something in his ear, smiled, and left.  
The guard stood and went over to the foot of the throne. “My Lord, my wife has just delivered our son. I request permission to visit them.”  
Thranduil eyed him coldly. “You may leave,” he said after a long silence. He turned away as the grateful guard thanked him profusely and hurried off.  
Walking towards the master bedroom, Ava shivered. Thranduil had seemed enraged about something, his eyes ice cold. Whatever had angered him must have been something major. She could feel the waves of fury emitting from him and spreading across the hall. Thinking she wouldn’t like to be whoever had crossed him, she stepped off the last step just across from the bedroom door.  
Thranduil appeared in front of her, making her jump in alarm.  
He had taken a side corridor to cut her off. Blue ice stared at her, his face hard. She could still feel the anger coming from him, but could not read his expression to see why.  
Without a word, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to the heavy wooden door, ignoring her protests of pain. He threw her inside, slamming the door and locking it at his back.  
She turned to him, rubbing her wrist where the flesh burned from the impression of his grip. Her face showed confusion and questions.  
He stepped close to her, breathing heavily as his temper flared hotter. “I am gone for one afternoon,” he hissed. “Only one afternoon.”  
She lifted her eyebrows. “I do not understand,” she said.  
“Do not play games with me!” he roared, and she jumped back in fright. “One single afternoon!” Murderous rage flashed in his eyes.  
“What is the problem? I do not know what has angered you so much,” she said.  
He snorted. “When the cat is away, the mouse will play,” he said, dangerously quiet.  
Her eyebrows came down in confusion. “What?” she asked incredulously.  
“Are you not content?” he demanded, stepping forwards as she had moved back.  
“I...yes, of course I am,” she answered. “Thranduil, what the hell..?”  
“You do not appear to be!”” he spat at her. “Out in full view of others, for everyone to see and talk about! How _dare _you make a fool of me!”__  
Her anger rose. “I do not know what has got into you,” she snapped. “Maybe if you told me what the hell you were talking about, I could understand a little better.”  
He grabbed her upper arms, hard. “Do I not satisfy you? In every way? You need to seek elsewhere?” he demanded angrily. Jealousy burned his soul.  
“Seek what elsewhere? What are you talking about?”  
“I saw you on my return,” he shouted. “With the stable worker! He is not a man!”  
She gasped in both shock and disbelief. “Nardual? What about him?”  
“I saw you! And so did half of the staff!” he roared. “He will never give you what I can!”  
Her temper spiked. “Maybe you should give me your trust!” she hissed.  
“Do not speak to me of trust!” He whipped down right in front of her, so close she could see the anger burning ferocious flames in his eyes.  
She shrugged her arms free, anger bubbling through her blood. “You jealous bastard,” she spat. “Do not _ever _accuse me of not being true to you! I have never looked at another. It is not in my nature!”__  
He reeled back at her profanity. “Do not speak to me like that ever again,” he hissed furiously.  
“If you are going to make uninformed judgements about me, I shall speak to you whichever way I choose,” she shot back. “Or maybe I will not speak to you at all!”  
He grabbed her again. “You belong to me, and no-one else!”  
She shoved him in the chest, hard enough to send him back a step. “When you treat me like this, I do not belong to you,” she retaliated. “When you are like this, I do not want to belong to you. I want nothing to do with you.”  
Hauling her up against him, he tangled his fist in her hair and pulled her head back roughly as he crushed her mouth with his. She resisted, using all her strength to create some leverage between them. His hold on her tightened in a steel-like grip, the anger flowing between them like an electrical current. He kissed her with bruising force, determined to claim her as his and his alone. No other man had any right to her, and would never have her.

_____ _

Pulling her head further back, he forced his tongue into her mouth, holding her in a menacing grip. She wriggled against him, which only stirred his arousal further. Bracing her hands against his chest, she pushed as hard as she could, but could not move him.  
He walked her backwards, pinning her arms to her sides as she fought against him. She was his woman, and he was going to make sure she knew it. As the back of her thighs hit the edge of the bed, she managed to tear herself away from him, pushing him and freeing herself from his grasp. She twisted away, but he grabbed the fabric of her dress and hauled her back to him, the cloth tearing.  
“No other man shall have you,” he growled against her mouth as he tore the bodice of her dress. “Never. You are mine...only ever mine.”  
Both hands twisted in her hair to hold her prisoner as he dragged her tightly against him, her exposed breasts crushed against his chest.  
The hands that were fighting him stilled, as something in his animal urges ignited a fire in her. Her hands flattened against his chest, sliding upwards to lock around the back of his neck. His senses flared as he subconsciously acknowledged the change in her touch, his erection hard and heavy. Large hands ripped the shredded dress from her.  
He pulled her hair hard, pulling her head back as far as it would go, dragging his mouth from hers. He panted hard as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, hard. She cried out and wriggled against him, part pleasure and part pain. The ache between her legs screamed out to be touched. Her knees seemed weak in their purpose to support her.  
He forced her down onto the bed, and she automatically opened her legs to accommodate him. He sank his weight down, settling in the space she had created. Sharp teeth continued to bite her as he fought to undo his trousers, freeing himself to the molten heat less than a heartbeat away from his tip. A long, deep growl rumbled from the depths of his soul as he thrust his solid length into her, her hips lifting in silent acceptance. Entangling his fingers through hers, he pinned her hands down on either side of her head against the bed.  
He thrust forwards, pushing as deep inside her as he could physically get. The wet heat gripping him fuelled him further, as he tried to push deeper still. She bucked underneath him as he sucked hard on her neck, marking her as his and for everyone to see she was his.  
“No other will ever have you,” he whispered raggedly as he crushed his mouth to hers again. The soft fabric of his trousers rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he thrust into her over and over. “You will only ever be mine.”  
She couldn’t answer, her breath coming in uneven gasps as he rode her hard. Her entire body seemed hyper sensitive, every nerve ending on fire and blasting with life. She flipped her legs up and crossed them over his back, lifting her hips higher up off the bed. Her back arched as sexual tension wound through her body, tingling sensations spreading through her and gathering between her legs where he pushed home.  
He thrust into her relentlessly, her body drawing him deeper into a tornado of lust. She whimpered and moaned in pleasure, writhing beneath him, enticing him further into oblivion. Her tongue danced with his in an erotic dual, his mouth bruising her as he devoured hers. He released her left hand and gripped her leg behind her knee, lifting it up high and altering the angle and depth of his penetration. She howled in pleasure as he slammed against her cervix, rotating his hips as he thrust into her.  
Her body tightened around him, her muscles tensing. He felt her orgasm building, which aroused him even further. Control had long gone, and all they had left was the primal need to reach completion. Dragging his mouth down her neck again, he squeezed his eyes closed, one hand gripping hers, and the other gripping behind her knee.  
She bucked hard, screaming in pleasure as she erupted, waves of euphoria blasting through her from head to toe. She quaked and trembled violently as her body convulsed, the world seeming to implode around her.  
He thrust hard and fast into her orgasm, desperate to reach his own. The muscles at the base of his spine tensed and tightened as the beginnings of an earth-shattering climax began to build. He threw his head back and gritted his teeth, exploding deep inside her. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades as he collapsed on top of her, exhausted and drained of every ounce of energy.  
His shoulders heaved as he panted for breath, the room spinning around him. Eventually he summoned the strength to roll off her, landing on his side.  
She slid off the bed, reached for a robe and shrugged it over her shoulders. With a backward glance filled with hatred, she left the room and closed the door.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

 

Thranduil sat up on the bed, running his hands through his hair, sorrow washing over him. What the hell had he done?  
Ava was mad with him, and rightly so. He had treated her like some cheap whore, and that was the last thing she deserved. This was the woman he loved, was going to spend eternity with.  
If she would have him after what he had done to her.  
Dragging in a deep breath, he slid off the bed, fastened his trousers and set off to find her. Searching around the palace, he wandered down deserted hallways, checked empty rooms, and looked everywhere for her.  
Nothing.  
Leaning back against the stone wall, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
She had every right to hate him. He had ravaged her like an animal, headstrong and determined to prove she belonged to him. Her absence hinted strongly that his actions might have done the exact opposite, driving her away from him forever.  
Silence accompanied him as he wandered the vast space, loneliness folding over him like a cloak. His heart ached as he realised the enormity of what he had done, and the very probable repercussions.  
A thought occurred to him.  
Where did Ava find peace, where did she find solitude? Where did she find answers when she was troubled?  
Following his instinct, he left the palace and headed over to the stables.  
*****

 

Ava stood with her eyes closed, her forehead pressed against Belan’s. The horse had sensed her emotional state, and had faithfully lowered her head to offer comfort as her mistress had approached her. The two of them stood for a long time like that, no words from Ava, just a reassuring contact as the animal and elf connected in that simple touch.  
Deafening silence surrounded them. Everyone on the grounds had retired for the night, and nothing stirred. Ava heard nothing, but sensed she was not alone.  
She remained where she was, not moving.  
A warm hand hesitantly touched her waist.  
She did not react.  
The hand lifted away slightly, then settled on her again in a gentle touch.  
She breathed deeply but silently.  
Belan lifted her head slowly, gave a very quiet snort, and turned away to the rear of the stables.  
Silence.  
A hard, warm chest touched her back, but only the briefest of contacts. The hand did not move. She closed her eyes, knowing she was angry and had every right, but also knowing she had enjoyed what he had done to her. His anger, however misplaced, had ignited a raging jealousy that had guided him in his actions, but she had been so turned on, it had shocked her.  
Slowly, she turned to face him, unprepared for what she saw.  
The candle light from the lamp hanging from the rafters flickered, casting shadows over his face. He was pale, his eyes almost soulless. His normally straightened shoulders seemed to sag under an enormous weight, and his gaze was lowered to his feet as she looked at him. She saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth, and knew that she could be so angry with him for the way he had treated her, but she would never stop loving him.  
“I have treated you so badly,” he said, his voice low. “I will always be sorry for what I did...please find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you so much and I would never hurt you, yet I was rough with you and forced you to do something you did not want. I do not deserve you, and I would not fault you if you never looked my way again. If I can do anything to fix what I did, please tell me. I will do anything, _Nin mel _, anything you ask. But _please___ forgive me.” His eyes remained downwards the whole time he spoke.  
She inhaled through her nose, feeling the sadness and regret that radiated from him. Her normally gentle giant had snapped, and something had pushed him to a rage so intense, it had been out of his control.  
Thranduil waited, his heart hammering in his chest, the sound of his blood as loud as thunder in his ears.  
“I am begging you with everything that I am, all that I have, to forgive me,” he whispered.  
Her heart broke as a solitary tear rolled down his cheek.  
“Thranduil,” she said softly.  
He didn’t move.  
“Look at me,” she said.  
After a moment or two, he lifted his eyes and gazed at something over her shoulder.  
She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek, turning him to look at her. Ice blue eyes filled with sadness and tears finally met hers, taking her breath away.  
“I am so sorry,” he whispered brokenly. “I have hurt and disrespected you, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life.” The tears in his eyes threatened to spill over, and she could feel the tremble running through his body from her light touch on his face.  
She stepped forwards, standing up on her toes and sliding her arms around his neck. His arms crushed her against him as he lowered his head and buried his face in her hair. His body shook as his emotions caught up with him and the dam holding back his tears burst. Fighting back her own tears, she stayed quiet, letting him release the tension that he had built up since returning earlier in the evening. All she could do was hold him tightly, allowing him to free his demons and make peace within himself. She murmered softly as she pressed gentle kisses on his neck, trying to soothe him. His arms around her tightened, but not in anger or rage this time, but in love and desperation to keep her. His flesh under her mouth was warm, comforting, and she could feel his thundering heartbeat through the pulse in his neck.  
Tangling her fingers in his long hair, she pulled him back slightly to kiss his face, tasting the saltiness of his tears. She kissed his eyes, his cheeks, settling on his mouth, which tentatively kissed her back. Deciding that her normally strong and decisive ruler needed her to lead and guide him, she took control, gently prying his lips apart and deepening the kiss.  
He responded, but his touch was much more restrained and hesitant. He held her with such a gentle touch, almost a scared touch, and kissed her as though she was as fragile as a butterfly.  
Pulling back to put a little space between them, her eyes searched his.  
He had trouble looking directly at her, ashamed of how he had acted and what he had done to her in a rage that in truth wasn’t her fault.  
“Look at me,” she said.  
She didn’t think he would for a second or two, but he eventually met her gaze.  
“I do not know what happened, but I do know that we need to talk about it,” she said. “Nothing happened that cannot be talked through and resolved. Yes, I am angry, but I am not going anywhere, do you understand?”  
He nodded, biting his bottom lip as his tears still flowed. She reached up and wiped them away.  
“I think we should go somewhere more comfortable,” she suggested. “That way you can relax, and tell me whatever it is that made you so angry, and there is no chance of anyone overhearing us.”  
She slid her hand through his, and he twisted his fingers through hers to strengthen the hold as they left the stable. She could still feel the tremble that ran through him, and squeezed her fingers around his as they walked in silence back to the palace.  
*****

____

_____ _

 

“Is there anything else, m’lady? Can I get something else for my Lord?” the servant asked, handing Ava two large cups of herbal tea.  
“No thankyou,” she replied with a smile. “The King does not feel very well, and would appreciate not being disturbed.”  
“Very well, m’lady. Goodnight.” The servant bowed and departed, and she closed the door, locking it.  
Crossing over to the rock pool, she handed a cup to Thranduil, who sat on the stone ledge, staring at the floor as though he was a hundred miles away.  
He took it from her, his gaze far away. She sat down on the ledge, not touching him, but close enough that all she had to do was lean forwards a little if she needed to. They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts.  
Eventually he took a deep breath and let it out on a weary sigh, then started to speak. “I had a meeting with the leadership councils from the two lands of the elves who are headed for war,” he said. “I had proposals laid out intended to calm things between them, to stop the need for any more bloodshed. There is so much hatred between them, everything we suggested was dismissed or ignored. The meeting did not go as planned.”  
She took a drink of her tea, content to wait for him to continue.  
“We left the meeting after negotiations broke down; there was nothing more we could do. As we prepared to leave, a messenger arrived. He informed me that the trolls who arranged to trade you have resumed their quest to locate you. They know you are here and they intend to come for you,” he said. His voice was so low in places, she was grateful for the silence surrounding them so that she could hear him. “A terrible day just seemed to become worse.”  
He took a deep breath, breaking his gaze away from the cup he held in his hands to look at the wall in front of him on the other side of the room.  
“We arrived back here, and all I wanted to do was make sure you were safe. Then I saw you and Nardual up on the wall out in the courtyard. I became so jealous...he was so close to you, both of you looked so happy, so contented...so _together _. I could not stand it.” A tear ran silently down his cheek, but he ignored it. “I once told you I would rather die than see you in the arms of another...that feeling is a thousand times stronger now than it was when I said it. I could not control what I was feeling when I saw you with him, everything just seemed trivial and without purpose, nothing held any meaning or importance anymore.” He looked back at the cup in his hands. “I have no excuse for what I did. I can only explain what I was feeling. And beg you to forgive me.” He turned his gaze to meet hers, his eyes bright with tears.__  
Putting her cup on the floor at her feet, she reached across and took his from him, placing it next to hers. She took both his hands in hers, in a firm but loving grip.  
“Listen to me,” she said. “Let’s start at the beginning. As far as the war between the elves is concerned, you cannot fix every wrong in the world. I know you want to, and you try, but some people cannot be helped. Sometimes you have to just walk away and let them decide for themselves, make their own decisions. The trolls? We will deal with them if and when they get too close – there is nothing more I can add to that. They are a thorn in my side that will probably never go away because of the gift I have. I cannot change that, I just have to accept it and adapt to it. And Nardual?”  
His eyes never left hers as he absorbed her words.  
“I was bored out of my head so I went to see Belan,” she told him. “Nardual was cleaning out her stable, so I helped him. We took a break and sat on the wall, because the weather was really warm. He was talking to me about all sorts of things, as I was to him. There was no reason for you to think I was looking elsewhere, no need to be jealous.”  
“Most of the females have a soft spot for him, elvish and human alike,” he said softly. “He seems to have a certain charm which they cannot resist.”  
“And you thought I was one of them?”  
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to look away from her.  
“Thranduil – Nardual is no threat to you,” she said. “He’s more like a threat to me.”  
His gaze met hers once more as his head jerked back up.  
“He is more likely to take you to bed than me,” she said softly.  
His eyes widened in shock.  
She nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yes. He does not have an eye for females, he prefers males. He always has.”  
His mouth opened, but words would not come out. “I was not aware,” he said eventually. “I thought...”  
“I know what you thought,” she told him. “And you are so far off course that you are not even on the same map. Everybody knows he is looking for a male mate.”  
“I did not,” he whispered, genuine horror in his eyes.  
She took a deep breath, the hint of her smile remaining. “Then you are the only one who did not,” she said. “And do not look so horrified – love is love, and we should not judge him.”  
He shook his head vehemently. “I am not judging him, I am judging myself,” he said, a pained look on his face. He broke free from her hold and stood, pacing the room. “I misread everything...I was brutal to you for no reason at all...all because I was jealous of someone whom I should have no reason to be jealous of.” He stopped, facing her, distress clear in his eyes. “What have I done?!”  
She swiftly stood, and grasped his hands again as she stood in front of him. “Listen to me. I am not saying what you did was right, but look at the whole picture. I reacted, I responded, and by God I enjoyed it, although I did not want to admit it,” she told him. “You acted through anger, jealousy, and taking everything into account, worry and stress also. I am not making excuses for you either, and I am not condoning your actions, but you were not thinking with a clear head, and I hardly rejected you, did I?”  
“You did at first,” he whispered.  
“Yes, because I was angry at your accusations,” she said.  
“I raped you,” he said, his voice breaking.  
“No, you did not,” she said immediately, tightening her grip on him. “Rape is when someone is forced against their will. I was not. I responded. And I had one of the biggest orgasms you’ve ever given me.” A sweet ache sparked to life between her legs at the memory of it. “There is a huge difference between rape and angry sex...I do not have as much experience as you, but even I know that there’s a big difference.”  
He shook his head, the anguish on his face still evident. “I do not know what I can do to rectify this,” he whispered. “I have caused so much damage-“  
“Stop,” she interrupted, framing his beautiful face with her hands. “What happened, happened. Let it go. I love you, and people fight, that is what they do. We are past it, we are still very strong, so let it go. You are always telling me to let go of the past, that the future is in front of us. Our future is still there, and we are going to explore it and live it together.”  
He blinked hard, tears still flowing.  
“Do not cry, my love,” she said softly, and stood on her toes to kiss them away. “Please do not cry. I love you so much, so, so much.”  
“There are no words to tell you how much I love you, or how sorry I will always be-“  
She pressed her mouth to his to cut him off, deciding she had heard enough. He was beating himself up and had no reason to. He had told her everything, and she wanted him to have a clear conscience.  
He slowly returned her kiss, scared at how to respond to her. He did not want her to feel any trace of anger from earlier, and was terrified he would scare her away.  
She broke the kiss, reluctantly dragging herself away from his warm, loving mouth, which had been so gentle with her. “I am going to bathe,” she said, her tone low and soft. “Join me?”  
Beautiful ice blue eyes gazed deep into hers, the love there unmistakable. “I have something I must attend to first,” he said. “But once I have seen to it, if the offer still stands, then I would be honoured to join you.”  
She smiled, trailing her hand down his cheek. He turned his head and placed a soft kiss in her palm, closing his eyes.  
“What do you have to do that is so important this late?” she asked.  
He chewed his bottom lip nervously. “I threw Nardual in the dungeons,” he said quietly.  
“Oh my God,” she sighed. “Alright. Go set him free. Or do you wish for me to do it?”  
He considered her offer, before shaking his head. “No, my love. I have to take responsibility.”  
“Then do you wish me to accompany you?”  
He found himself drowning in the deep blue of her eyes. “Yes. I am scared to let you go.”  
“You have nothing to fear,” she replied. “Besides – Nardual has been pursuing one of the kitchen assistants for some time...I have to stay here to see how it all works out.”  
She gave him a devilish wink, making him smile a little.  
“That’s much better,” she said tenderly. “That’s the Thranduil I know and fell in love with. Let me put something else on, we will let him go, then come back to bathe.”  
She turned to lift his cloak from the foot of the bed, draping it around herself, halting as she watched him bend down to pick up the shredded fabric of the dress she had worn earlier. Taking it from him, she tossed it out of sight.  
“I never liked it anyway,” she said flippantly.  
He smiled, a slightly bigger smile, as he rearranged the cloak around her more securely. “Liar.” He dropped a tender kiss on her mouth. “But I love you.”  
“And I love you,” she replied. “Come. I will help you do this.”  
They left the bedroom and went down to the dungeons, which were dug out deep underground. The air was cold and dark, despite the time of year. They walked shoulder to shoulder, their bodies in constant contact, no words needing to be passed between them. Once they arrived, Thranduil dismissed the guard once the door had been unlocked.  
He stepped into the room. Nardual sat on the floor facing him, his back against the wall.  
Thranduil chose his words carefully. “It seems I have acted in haste,” he said. “Your future Queen has informed me that I made a rash judgement and for this I apologise. I jumped to the wrong conclusions and have punished you for something you are not guilty of.”  
“I would never do anything to disrespect you my Lord, or m’lady Ava,” the younger man assured him. “My only aim here at the palace is to see that you are both happy.”  
He nodded, pursing his mouth. “My love tells me you seek to pursue a relationship with one of the assistants in the kitchen,” he said.  
A smile appeared on Nardual’s face. “Yes, my Lord.”  
“Then I will see to it that you both given chores to carry out together,” he said. “Let us see if we cannot give this situation a push in the right direction.”  
“Thankyou, my Lord,” Nardual said.  
Thranduil lowered his head, a gesture of respect not usually used for servants. “You are free to return to your home.”  
Nardual sprang to his feet, thanking him again as he passed. Leaving the room, he saw Ava leaning on the wall, her arms folded. She nodded to him, touching his arm in a brief gesture as he nodded back and passed her.  
Thranduil stepped out into the corridor.  
Sweeping her gaze up to him, she smiled. “I am proud of you,” she told him.  
“I do not deserve your compliment,” he said.  
Entwining her fingers through his once more, she tugged him away from the dungeons. “That does not benefit a reply,” she said. “Instead, we have more important things to do.”


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

 

Thranduil silently thanked the Gods as he massaged Ava’s shoulders, her flesh wet and slippery from the soap he had used. Bubbles lathered across her skin, and his fingers moved with ease as he worked out the tension below the surface.  
“That feels like heaven,” she murmered, completely relaxed and settled. The water was pleasantly warm, the warrior pressed against her back even warmer. His strong hands worked wonders on her shoulders, leading her deeper into her relaxation. Her eyes closed as she leaned her head forwards, breathing deeply and relishing the feel of his hands on her.  
He gave her shoulders a final rub and swept his hands down both her arms. She groaned in mild disappointment. “Oh I could have you do that to me forever,” she laughed, leaning back against his shoulder.  
He crossed his arms around her abdomen, pressing a kiss to her neck. “And I would, my love, but the water is cooling down. It is time to get out and dried.”  
She murmered in half-hearted agreement, still reluctant to move. He eventually broke the embrace and hoisted himself backwards up onto the ledge behind them, reaching for the towels. He took her hand as she turned to help her to stand, and wrapped a large, fluffy towel around her. They both stopped, gazing into each other’s eyes.  
“I love you, _Nin mel _,” he whispered.__  
She smiled, pressing her mouth against his. “I love you too, my King,” she whispered against his lips. “Always and forever.”  
She stepped out of the bathing pool, drying herself as she went. He turned where he sat, just watching her. Shame flooded through him as he watched her dry, recalling in vivid detail how he had humiliated her and used her through jealous rage. Her soul was pure, innocent, and she always saw the good in others. His unbridled anger could have tainted her forever, and changed her as a person, as a lover.  
“Stop it,” she said, and he realised his gaze had drifted away. She had stopped and was watching him. “I know what you are thinking.”  
He forced a small smile. “You do not possess the gift of being able to enter my mind,” he reminded her.  
“I do not need to,” she informed him. “I am a woman, a woman who is in love, and a woman who can read her lover’s eyes. Therefore I do not need to enter your thoughts. I already know them.”  
He pursed his mouth. “You are too clever,” he decided as he swung his feet out and stood.  
“Sometimes it does not hurt to have a little intelligence,” she remarked, resuming her drying.  
He took the towel from her, and with gentle hands, dried her back and down the backs of her legs. “I would say you have more than just a little, my love,” he said. “More than most.”  
She pffft’d. “Whatever. I do know most of how you think though; not everything, but for the most part.”  
His silence told her his mind was still on what had happened between them earlier. “Have you any plans for tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, swiftly changing the subject. He rose back to his full height behind her, handing the towel over her shoulder.  
“No, not really,” she replied.  
He slid his arms around her, pressing a tender kiss to her bare shoulder. “Spend the day with me?”  
She smiled. “I would love to.”  
*****

____

 

The room was still dark, the sun having not yet made her daily appearance. Candles cast a soft glow around, shadows dancing and flickering.  
Thranduil lay awake, having woken after only a few hours’ sleep. Ava lay in a deep sleep beside him, one leg thrown over his and her arm across his chest. He lightly traced the tip of his index finger along her arm, lost in thought. The probability of the oncoming troll attack weighed heavily on his mind, Ava’s safety being paramount. Thinking he would put another few thousand soldiers in place, he sighed softly in the semi-darkness.  
Ava rolled over in her sleep, lost in her own dreams.  
He propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her, amazed at the fact she was there beside him. He had been blessed to have her in his life, and even more blessed to have her remain after the previous night. Her eyebrows came down in the slightest frown, so slight that he only noticed it because of his exceptionally sharp sight. She relaxed again, stretching her arm above her head on the pillow and settling.  
The movement caused the blanket to slide down, revealing her full, plump breasts. He hardened instantly. Her pink nipples stood hard and proud, reacting to the change in temperature without the blanket covering them.  
Unable to stop himself, he leaned forwards and touched his mouth to the swell of flesh, savouring the warmth emitting from her. Her skin was as soft as silk against his lips. Placing another kiss, he moved over to her nipple, and lightly brushed his full lips over it.  
She moved slightly in her sleep, but did not awaken.  
He smiled, repeating the motion. The hard flesh puckered further, almost begging for more. Slowly, he swept his tongue over the tip, a deep ache gathering in his groin. He licked her again, fighting the urge to draw her nipple into his mouth and suck hard.  
Raising himself up over her, his long hair tickled her upper body as he settled himself, taking his weight on his elbows on either side of her.  
She didn’t awaken.  
He kissed her other breast, spending a little more time as he knew this one to be slightly more sensitive. Her back arched slightly, but she slept on. Keeping his elbows on the bed, he lifted both hands and cupped them both, kissing the valley in between. His thumbs trailed lazily over the peaks, a pang of acute pleasure shooting through him as they grew harder still under his touch.  
He carefully slid down, bit by bit, touching his mouth to her warm flesh as he went. Her stomach muscles rippled in response as he swirled his tongue across her abdomen, and he smiled as she remained in a deep slumber.  
With slow, gentle movements, he parted her thighs and settled in between, inches from the heart of her. Heat radiated from her core, the aroma of her arousal filling his senses. This was where he wanted to be, to stay forever.  
He used one fingertip to lightly trace around her folds, occasionally glancing up at her to see if she was awake and aware. Her legs parted a little wider automatically, his touch reaching through the heavy curtain of sleep.  
Closing his eyes, he leaned towards her and slowly dragged his tongue over her. She lifted her hips in a reflex motion, a soft moan sounding in the silence. He smiled again. She would wake up eventually.  
Her clitoris was hard as his tongue rubbed it in a gentle caress, and again her hips responded. He settled into a more comfortable position on his elbows, and closed his mouth over her.  
*****

 

Ava stirred, a delicious sensation pulsating in between her legs. Her eyes were burning, her body heavy with tiredness. Yet somehow, a deep pleasure radiated across her lower body. She came fully awake, gasping as she felt Thranduil’s warm mouth doing amazing things in between her legs.  
Her thighs parted wider than they already were, although she didn’t remember them being in that position when she fell asleep. Flames drifted up her body as she felt his tongue roll her clit and dive downwards, pushing into her. She whimpered, arching her back.  
Thranduil inhaled deeply. Now she was awake.  
He shifted back to her sensitive clit, sweeping his tongue back and forth across it. A guttural cry assured him she was enjoying it, so he continued. He moved faster, as she moved restlessly, her breath coming in uneven pants and gasps.  
Deciding he could intensify her pleasure further, he slowly pushed one finger into her, taking his time as he pushed deep. A warm gush of fluid met him, and he throbbed in primal response. This was where he wanted her. Aroused, ready, and desperate to come for him. He slowly slid his finger back out, to her moan of disappointment, and pushed it back in. Repeating this several times, he continued to tease her with his tongue. Eventually he withdrew, replacing one finger with two, and stretching her.  
Her back arched up as she cried out, her insides clenching him as he slowly pumped them in and out of her. Fluid seemed to gush out of her, the insides of her thighs drenched.  
She tangled her fingers in his hair, moaning incoherently as she held him against her, her hips moving in sync with him. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as he pumped his fingers harder and deeper, his tongue still taking her to heights beyond her comprehension. Strangled cries ripped from her throat as her body twisted and turned, desperately seeking the release which only he could give. Sweat covered her body, her blood rushed through her, and her heartbeat thumped violently.  
“Thranduil, I need you,” she cried.  
“Come for me,” he whispered huskily. “Let me hear you scream for me.”  
Her thighs trembled as her muscles tensed in preparation for her approaching climax. Still he licked her and teased her with his fingers, pushing her closer and closer, higher and higher. He could feel her internal muscles tightening around his fingers, her fluid coating him as he slid in and out of the wet heaven.  
“Oh my God, please don’t stop,” she panted, her cries becoming more and more desperate. “Please don’t ever stop.”  
“I don’t intend to, _Nin mel _,” he whispered against her. “You taste so sweet...I want more. I want everything.”__  
Her entire body went rigid and she threw her head back, moaning a long, deep moan that rose in pitch to a scream as an almighty orgasm washed over her. Her fists gripped the bed linen and the cloth ripped as she writhed and wriggled, her body in complete meltdown.  
She tried to close her legs against the bitter-sweet torture, but his shoulders prevented her thighs from closing. He gripped her inner thighs, forcing them open as he licked her through her climax, pre-cum leaking from his tip as his arousal grew at her orgasm.  
Dragging him up her body, she clamped her mouth to his, pushing her tongue deep inside as her body continued to quake and tremble beneath his. “I need you inside me,” she gasped breathlessly, her arms tight around his neck.  
“No, my love,” he said softly. “That was for you, for your pleasure. Not mine.”  
“Then I get to decide how I want that pleasure,” she panted against his mouth, sliding one hand between them and gripping the solid length of him. His hips jerked in her hold, and she drew her thumb across his leaking tip. “Now...please...”  
Unable to resist her helpless pleading, he relented and allowed her to guide him, his back arching in intense pleasure as he slid effortlessly into her. Her inner muscles still flexed and contracted, her orgasm not yet finished. Closing his eyes, he thrust home hard, deep into the molten heat that surrounded him and clouded his ability to think. Her juices soaked his upper thighs as he moved within her, her legs wrapping around his waist and altering the depth of his penetration. He slid his hands under her shoulders, crushing his mouth against hers and kissing her with mounting passion. His head spun, the sensations too much for him.  
His chest heaved against hers as he struggled to breathe, her breasts pressed against the hard muscle.  
“Come for me,” she gasped in a broken whisper. “Complete me, my love.”  
Her words flipped him over the edge, his orgasm rearing up and tearing through his body with a force strong enough to realign the planets. Exhausted, he collapsed, rolling to the side and taking her with him. Throbbing deep inside her, he panted hard as she maintained her hold on him with her strong legs, refusing to let him pull out. His lungs burned with the effort of breathing.  
The minutes ticked past.  
He felt her warm mouth softly brushing over his, and he opened his eyes to see her smile.  
“That was beautiful,” she said, her tone low and soft. “I love you, Thranduil. I love you so much.”  
He pulled her back to him and kissed her. “I love you too, Ava...more than I could ever tell you,” he whispered against her. “I always will, and I mean that more than anything. Always.”  
She traced her thumb over his bottom lip which was swollen from their kisses, as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She settled her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes in contentment.  
Before long, both were fast asleep.  
*****

____

 

She awoke to the smell of peaches.  
Opening her eyes, she saw Thranduil sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, one long, muscled leg crossed over the other.  
_Damn _, she thought, as an ache sparked to life.__  
He grinned, using his dagger to cut a slice of the soft fruit. “Dirty thoughts, my love?” he teased, holding it out to her.  
She sat up, holding the blanket across her breasts, and leaned towards him. “Yes,” she replied with a grin.  
He gently put the fruit in her mouth, swooping in and kissing the juice from her lips before she had the chance to react. “That is allowed,” he said with a mischievous grin.  
She groaned as she chewed. “How can I feel like this after last night?” she wailed. “Oh my...this is gorgeous.”  
He smiled a lazy, conceited smile, saying nothing. Rising to his feet, his long red velvet cloak swept behind him as he crossed over to the window. “The sun is already high,” he said over his shoulder. “What would you like to do today?” He turned back to her, his piercing ice blue eyes holding her as his willing prisoner.  
She considered. “I quite like the idea of the forest,” she decided eventually. “Do you not have things to do?”  
He shook his head, cutting the peach. She watched his large hands, remembering how skilled they were at bringing her world to a shattering stop. “I promised you today. There is nothing on my schedule that cannot wait.”  
She glanced around, noting the shredded linen and her cheeks flamed. “We need to do something about this,” she mumbled, picking at the torn cloth.  
He raised an eyebrow playfully. “I am sure there are lots more you can rip apart,” he said, his tone low and seductive. Her eyes met his, the heat smouldering across the room between them. “I can arrange for them to be replaced.”  
She kept her eyes on his as she rose from the bed, taking the blanket with her and crossed to him, slow, deliberate steps. She stopped before him, gazing up into ice blue that flared with arousal, and held up her hand for some more of the peach.  
Unblinking, he sliced off a section, putting it in his mouth. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, which opened instantly, and passed the peach to her in the most erotic kiss she had ever experienced. She purred in pleasure at both the sweet taste of the fruit, and the warm sensation of his mouth. She wrapped both arms around his shoulders, her hands caressing the warm flesh of his neck. A rumble of arousal sounded from deep within his chest, and he withdrew reluctantly.  
“We can take this back to bed, or we can let it smoulder for later,” he said huskily.  
She chased his mouth, pressing hers to his once more. His arms tightened around her waist, crushing her flush to his form as he kissed her deeply. Lust poured through him as her curves moulded against the hard muscle of his body, her softness reaching through every sense and nerve ending.  
Reluctantly breaking apart, they stared at each other for several long seconds.  
Trailing a hand through his long blond hair, she smiled. “I suppose there is nothing wrong with letting it smoulder for a while,” she said. “The heat will only burn hotter if we leave it.”  
“Who would have guessed my fiery little elf would have such a wild sex drive?” he murmered, amusement battling with arousal in his eyes.  
“The blame lies squarely with you,” she replied, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “And I am not little.”  
A dark eyebrow lifted in humour. “Next to me _Nin mel _, yes you are.”__  
She shrugged, well aware of the nine inches separating them which allowed him to tower over her. “Good things come in small packages.”  
“And large ones,” he whispered, touching his mouth to the sensitive spot on her neck. His warm tongue licked her flesh.  
She laughed, retreating back across the room. “I thought we were going to shelf this for now?”  
He pouted in mock annoyance, turning his sensual mouth into a smile as she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “I shall return shortly, my love,” he said decidedly. “I will make sure Belan and Belroch are prepared, and we can leave as soon as we have eaten something.”  
“That is fine,” she replied, lifting a pair of stretch leggings and a loose blue tunic the colour of his eyes. “I will not be long getting ready.”  
Fighting against the desire to take her back to their destroyed bed, he swept past her, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth on the way, and went to ready the horses.  
*****

_____ _

 

The following day, Ava smiled to herself as she picked her way through the undergrowth of the forest. Their day together had been completely different, as they had rode out into a part of the woods she had never been to before. They had rode for miles, Thranduil stopping and showing her different species of wildlife, knowing her passion for animals. They had rested next to a beautiful waterfall which cascaded over the rocks into a pool which glimmered and sparkled in the sunlight, making love with each other and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Upon waking, they had reignited the passion between them, before returning to the palace long after night had fallen.  
Her thoughts focused back on the present as she came upon the place she sought, a small wooden building in which resided an elderly elf who mastered in his chosen art of sword making.  
“Good morning, Orym,” she greeted, knocking the open door and stepping inside.  
“Ah, good morning, m’lady!” he returned with a wide smile. “How are you this fair weather?”  
“I am good, and yourself?” she replied.  
“Better than good,” he told her, a sparkle in his eye. “I have completed your request, m’lady.”  
“Ooo,” she grinned, excited. “May I see?”  
“Of course,” he said, ushering her through to his workshop at the rear of his home. “This has been a wonderful piece to work on, and I have thoroughly enjoyed crafting it.” He led her over to a large workbench, upon which lay a huge sword. Picking it up, he turned and placed it carefully in her hands.  
She took a deep breath, wonder and appreciation for the weapon she held. Long, heavy, and intricately etched, she knew she held a one-of-a-kind masterpiece which could never be reproduced.  
The sword was heavier than her own, being intended for one far stronger than she, one far more skilled.  
Her mouth tipped up into a loving smile as she ran her thumb over the design etched into the top of the blade just underneath the handle, the one she had drawn and requested.  
The ancient symbol of fire and ice.  
Her birthmark.  
The destiny which tied her to Thranduil throughout the realms of time and eternity.  
Lifting her eyes to meet the old man’s, her smile widened to a grin. “Orym, I am speechless,” she said. “There are no words for this...it is truly beautiful, and will serve its master well. I know this.”  
He bowed his head in respect. “I am honoured to have been chosen to make this, m’lady,” he said. “It is the highest honour to serve my Lord and m’lady.”  
“And I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she replied, genuine affection in her words. “You have no idea how much this means to me, or what it will mean to the King.”  
“I pray that it will keep him safe, and will allow him to protect you, m’lady,” he replied. “My blessings and love go with this sword, and I pray for love and peace wherever you both are.”  
Tears blurred her vision as she bowed her head to return his gesture. “May you be blessed also,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thankyou so much. I will arrange payment through Legolas. He will come in the next few days.”  
“There is no hurry, m’lady,” he told her. “I will-“  
His words were cut short as the arrow from a crossbow thudded into his chest, and he dropped to the floor instantly.  
Ava whipped around in horror, seeing nothing in the surrounding trees. Her nose twitched.  
She smelled the unmistakable stench of orcs.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

 

Moving rapidly, Ava wrapped the sword in the heavy cloth it had laid on when placed on the workbench. She secured it and fastened it to her back, determined that she would not leave the precious gift behind.  
Ducking low, she scrambled out of sight of anyone outside the building, moving along the dusty floor at speed. She pressed her back against the wall, breathing hard as she contemplated her options.  
Nobody knew where she was. She had found the old man by sheer accident, and had formed a close friendship with him as he had worked on her request. The sword was intended as a gift for Thranduil, specifically designed with the symbol of her birthmark as a poignant meaning. He had secretly arranged for her ring to be made with the ice blue gems, as the colour had a specific meaning close to her heart, and she had felt the urge to do something similar for him to show him how much she loved him.  
She had told no-one of her arrangement, often slipping away unnoticed to go and visit Orym and see how he was progressing.  
That secrecy could now be the end of her.  
Grumbling and muttered conversation reached her ears, filtering in through the window that had been shattered by the incoming arrow. The orcs moved around outside in search of her, crashing through the trees and bushes.  
She closed her eyes, making sure her method of blocking Thranduil was strong and intact. She did not want to alert him to her dangerous situation and put him in danger also.  
Sneaking a furtive glance through a knothole in the wooden wall, she counted how many orcs she could focus on. At least twelve made their way towards the house.  
Fighting inside an enclosed space did not bode well for her, so she crawled along the floor to the rear of the building and hauled herself out of a window, dropping silently to the grass in a crouch. She felt she had a better chance of defending herself in a more open space, and withdrew both her swords as quietly as she could.  
The slight sound of the steel coming free alerted the orcs, and she winced in annoyance as she heard them change direction, approaching from either side.  
Throwing caution to the wind, she leapt to her feet, launching into full defence mode as they closed in on her.  
*****

 

Thranduil sighed in annoyance. “I want this mended, quickly,” he snapped, releasing Belan’s back leg and letting her unshod hoof drop back to the stable floor. “This horse cannot walk like this. See to it that the blacksmith is here within the hour to rectify this.”  
Nardual nodded, turning and hurrying from the stable.  
Thranduil ran a gentle hand over Belan’s neck, murmering to her in Sindarin. The horse snorted softly in response, lifting her head and resting it on his shoulder. He rubbed her velvet ears, wondering what else seemed to be troubling the animal. She had been restless since he had gone into her stable, unsettled and nervous. Knowing she would not display these traits because of his presence, and that she was used to and comfortable with Nardual, he wondered what had unsettled her.  
Ava would be able to calm her without even saying anything, as Belan seemed to gel with her and connected almost as one with her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t around, and he made a mental note to find her and ask her to drop in on the horse.  
He broke contact with her, the animal making soft noises of distress. “I will find Ava for you,” he said tenderly in his own language. “She will help you.”  
Belan turned from him and limped away, surprising him. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn the horse was stressing over something.  
*****

 

Ava’s swords swished through the air, hitting their targets and dropping two of the orcs. Blood pooled around her as they fell, the smell from the horrible, black sticky residue burning her nose. Swirling around, she swiped at one advancing behind her, driving her left sword deep into his stomach. He too fell, collapsing on the grass with a howl of impending death.  
She quickly tallied how many were still alive, but it seemed that more had advanced from the woods. She was certain she had killed at least five of them, but there was about thirteen that she could see.  
A feeling of dread washed over her as one of them fired a crossbow in her direction, and she dropped to her haunches, the arrow thumping into the wood where she had stood. Throwing herself back in through the window behind her as she turned, the wooden floor met her solidly as she fell inwards. She curled into a ball and skirted sideways out of sight, breathing heavily as sweat trickled between her shoulder blades.  
Her head whipped left and right, as the noise from the orcs closed in on her.  
She was surrounded.  
She had no choice.  
Closing her eyes, she pulled strength from deep within her soul, slowing her heartbeat down to a dangerously low level. _I am so sorry. I need you. Help me _, she thought. _ ___  
*****______

_____ _

 

Thranduil stopped dead, Ava’s voice ringing loud and clear in his mind. His heart pounded in his chest.  
She was in trouble.  
Anger flooded through him as he spun around and headed back for the stables, shouting for his guards on the way. Several of them quickly surrounded him as he strode inside, grabbing Belroch’s reins and swiftly throwing himself up on the massive horse’s back. Issuing curt orders, he kicked him into action as they scrambled to mount other horses, following him out into the courtyard.  
*****

 

Ava’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, the whooshing of her blood deafening her. Her arms ached with defending herself against her attackers, but the will to survive was stronger than the urge to collapse onto the grass beneath her feet. She swung her sword across her body and swiped with force to her left, cutting off the arm of an orc. The scream of agony and rage bellowed throughout the forest, echoing off the trees in all directions.  
A renewed sense of energy flushed through her, a determination which drove her and kept her on her feet. Both her swords served her well, as did the relentless training Thranduil had put her through. Now she understood why he had forced her past what she had originally thought herself capable of, shouted at her when she was tired, and pushed her until she had screamed that she could do no more.  
She had been wrong. And he had been right. The skills he had taught her came back to her, the strength he had passed on to her through elf magic flowing in her blood as she fought for her life.  
The sound of thundering hooves caught her attention as she withdrew her weapon from her enemy, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Thranduil crashing out of the woods, accompanied by at least a dozen of his guards. Fury was etched on his face, his eyes cold and hard.  
She was in trouble, and she knew it.  
The guards shot off in all directions, slaying the orcs that tried to prevent them from reaching her.  
“Ava!” Thranduil roared, holding his hand out as he hurtled towards her.  
She quickly re-sheathed her swords and sprinted over to him. He grabbed her arm and hauled her up onto Belroch’s back behind him, swiftly turning the horse away.  
“Finish this,” he commanded angrily to his guards, and kicked Belroch into a gallop.  
*****

 

Thranduil stood with his head lowered, his fists placed on the wooden table in front of him.  
Ava sat silently behind him, using the calm before the storm to appreciate the beautiful sight before her.  
His shoulders were tense, his long blond hair flowing down his back, giving him an aura of unrivalled power and authority. His sheer height and the anger radiating from him was enough to frighten her, but she knew he would not hurt her. She just had to ride out the angry tirade she knew was to come.  
She let her gaze trail from the floor upwards, taking in the knee-high boots that hugged his calves. Strong legs covered in soft, stretchy trousers that lovingly caressed his muscled thighs. A straight back which spoke silently of tightly leashed anger.  
He slowly turned to face her, his closed fists at his sides.  
If she was someone else, she knew without a doubt he would have picked up his sword and taken her head off, the look of anger burning so deep in his ice cold eyes. As it was, given the intimacy they shared and the fact that he loved her beyond anything else, she knew her life was safe.  
Silence hung heavily between them.  
“Rumours have circulated these lands for many years,” he said eventually, his velvet voice flowing around her, touching every sensitive part of her body. “Rumours that made others fear you. Fear the trouble that follows your footsteps, wherever you go. Fear of your resistance to rule, your refusal to follow heed when given advice.” He paused, his lips pressing together in anger. “I quenched these rumours,” he continued after a moment of silence. “I assured all around me that this would not be the case. Yet you have been determined to prove me wrong.”  
She stayed quiet.  
He leaned his fists on the table behind him, his head lowering slightly. Lifting his eyes upwards to glare at her, he spoke. “Tell me why you are unable to listen when sound knowledge is given to you.”  
It wasn’t a request, it was an order, his velvet-soft words coating an irrepressible rage.  
She chose her words carefully. “I am able to,” she said. “But there are times when I have to make choices of my own.”  
“Choices which can result in your death,” he said.”Or your capture, and the rest of your life lived in agony and horror. Yet you do not use caution.” He tipped his head back up, staring coldly at her. “I made a vow to try and shield you from my anger,” he continued, and she knew he was referring to recent events when emotions had run exceptionally high on both sides. “Yet I find myself fighting a war to maintain my vow.”  
She lowered her gaze, her cheeks taking on a soft pink hue as she processed his words and the meaning behind them.  
“My guards are constantly at risk, each time you disappear and they have to risk their lives to find you.”  
Silence.  
“No explanation?” he asked.  
She knew that whatever she said was going to ignite an inferno, so she shook her head. “I was arranging something, something I did not wish anyone to know about.”  
She jumped as he lurched forwards, crashing both fists onto the table in front of her.  
“I was under the assumption you were going to be my wife!” he thundered, his eyes blazing. “Why would my wife keep secrets from me? Why would she put herself at risk, and put others at risk because of her foolish choices, her unwillingness to be honest with the one who loves her?”  
Sheer willpower forced her to remain seated, and not leap out of the path of his temper.  
He shook his head, his long hair trailing over the edge of the table as he moved. “Right now I am questioning the logic behind the prophecy,” he hissed. “I am questioning why I chose to involve myself and my people. I do not know why I have gained centuries’ worth of knowledge and experience to throw caution aside and accept challenges which seem to be beyond what I can master.”  
Grief shot through her, piercing her heart like an arrow.  
He regretted finding her, saving her life, falling in love with her, and working to build a future with her. His words spoke loud and clear. He was questioning everything connected to her, questioning his wisdom in allowing her to get close enough to fall in love.  
Her hand dropped to her side and she picked up the cloth-bound package she had fought so hard for, and placed it on the table between them. “Maybe you have to re-think your decisions,” she said quietly as she stood, and walked out of the room.  
The door closed quietly behind her, leaving Thranduil with a shocked expression on his face, his mouth open. He had not expected her quiet acceptance of his anger, instead he had expected and had been prepared for her exploding, her usual fiery temper burning to the surface as she met him head on and argued her reasoning. But she hadn’t done that, she had given in and walked away. He frowned, his mind working overtime as he struggled to absorb her actions. She _never _backed down, _never _gave in. Her inner warrior was as strong in will as was his, and she normally lacked the control of keeping that warrior silent.____  
His eyes fell to the package she had placed before him, and he slowly lifted a hand, carefully unfolding the tattered, worn cloth.  
His mouth fell open in shock, as the sword came into view. A long, beautifully engraved sword which spoke of hours of painstaking labour and attention to craft. He lifted it, the weight and length telling him that this weapon had been designed and crafted especially for him.  
His gaze travelled the length of the sharp blade, the sunlight reflecting off the polished steel. His eyes fell upon the design etched just below the handle, on the top of the blade.  
The ancient symbol of fire and ice.  
Ava’s birthmark.  
The prophecy that promised the two to be united through the realms of time until the stars burned out of the heavens, until time stopped forever.  
He closed his eyes, pain overriding his anger at the danger she had put herself into, at how close she had come to being killed or captured. She had worked in secret to create a masterpiece for no-one but him, a work of art that spoke of the feelings in her heart. The meaning behind her actions and her secrecy brought tears to his eyes. All she had wanted to do was create something special for him, something that would hold a specific meaning for him and him alone.  
Grief tore through him. Yet again he had become angry with her, at her stubbornness and her determination to avoid every safety precaution he had put in place around her. He had shown his anger, voiced his rage, and wished with all his heart that he hadn’t.  
He held the sword up, pressing his forehead to the cold steel as he gathered his thoughts. Willing himself capable of gaining her trust after what he had said to her, he circled the table and went in search of her.  
He didn’t have to go far.  
She was standing by the window right outside the room they had been in.  
He stopped dead, his hand still on the handle as he halted in pulling the door closed behind him. His eyes met hers, picking up the sadness lurking in her gaze.  
She turned her eyes away, looking out of the window instead. Her body shifted, presenting her back to him.  
Taking a deep breath, he closed the door and stepped over to her, placing the sword against the wall at her side. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back tightly against his chest. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice low. “Again I have shown my anger, and I should not have done.”  
“I understand why you are angry,” she said, after a few moments’ silence. “But there are times when I cannot exist in restraint. Sometimes I need to break free and do other things.”  
“I know.”  
She pulled away slightly. “You need to rethink the choices you have made,” she said. Her tone was flat, almost cold.  
He gripped her upper arms, turning her to face him. “I do not. I do not regret the choices I have made,” he said. “What I regret is allowing anger to decide what I said, how I conveyed my worry for you and your safety. I said the first things that came into my mind, but they were not true words. Your safety is the most important aspect of my life, and in the lives of those around me. I spoke in anger, and I should not have done.”  
She pulled her mouth in, battling her emotions. “Maybe what you said is true.”  
He shook his head. “No, my love. Never. If I could go back through time, I would do it the same. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my miserable, lonely life, and I have no right to turn on you when times are hard.”  
She held his gaze, saying nothing. She had no need to. Her eyes spoke of hurt, but love lived in the blue depths as well.  
“I seem to be fighting a never ending battle to keep you at my side,” he said quietly. “I have feelings that I have no control over, I become angry when I think of you in danger, I get jealous when I think of others desiring you. This is new to me...I do not know how to control it.”  
“I did not willingly put myself in danger,” she said. “I have been going to Orym for weeks, and have never seen or felt anything that would suggest I was at risk. I just wanted...” she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears. “I just wanted to do something special for you, something that would show you how much I love you, something that would mean nothing to anyone but you. That old man put so much time and effort into making that wish come true for me, and now he is dead because of me.” Tears trickled down her cheeks.  
“Ava,” he whispered brokenly, wrapping her in a tender embrace. “You cannot blame yourself for every death. There will always be danger, there will always be those who hunt you because you are different, because you are special. This is going to happen possibly forever, and nothing we do will stop it. Even my enemies will hunt you to get to me, this is how the world exists, in a vortex of hatred and revenge. We cannot stop it.”  
Her hands clutched the soft fabric of his grey tunic, holding on tightly as she inhaled his aroma, absorbed his strength. “Sometimes I hate my life, what I am, who I am, what follows me,” she admitted, her whisper so soft he had trouble hearing her words. “People are destined to die because of my existence.”  
He set her apart from him slightly, searching her eyes. “That is part of the prophecy,” he said. “Eventually everything will level off, but until then, people will die. That is out of our control. All we can do is keep you protected until you have full use of your power, and then everything will fall into place.”  
“And how many more lives will be lost before you ask yourself again if you did the right thing by allowing me to get close to you?” she whispered.  
“I know with all my heart and soul that I did the right thing,” he replied immediately. “I was blessed the day I took you from the forest, I just did not realise the intensity of that blessing at the time. It was not until the next day when you slapped me that I realised I had found one who could bond with my soul, one who had the fire and intensity to match my own.”  
Her cheeks flushed at the memory.  
“That gesture of anger and frustration awoke something inside me that had been asleep for centuries,” he said. “I knew my fate was sealed, and there was nothing I could do about it, no matter how I fought and pushed against it.”  
She surprised him by standing on her toes, pulling his head down to hers and pressing her mouth to his. “I just love you so much,” she said softly. “And maybe I go about showing it the wrong way, maybe it seems to be a talent of mine to make you so angry, but it is the last thing I wish to do.”  
He closed his eyes, touching his forehead to hers and breathing deeply. “Every beat of my heart is in rhythm with yours,” he whispered. “It always has been, and always will be.”


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 

The circle of guards moved backwards, retreating several yards away into the seclusion of the trees. A warm breeze blew, toying with the ends of Ava’s hair as she knelt on the ground.  
Thranduil stood behind her, silent. His hands were clasped in front of him, his head bent in respect, but he said nothing. He waited as she silently said goodbye in her own way to the old man who had lovingly crafted the weapon she had requested.  
She closed her eyes, a tear falling as her lashes closed. The old man had not deserved such a brutal death, and certainly not because of his friendship with her. She had grown close to him over the course of her visits, chatting about anything and everything that came to mind while she had watched him work. Skilled hands had put every effort into fulfilling what she had asked of him, without a single hesitance or grumble at the time involved in the special project.  
A warm hand settled gently on her shoulder.  
She lifted hers, placing it on the top, and Thranduil’s other hand covered hers.  
“He has an honoured burial,” he said softly, his voice soothing her scattered emotions. “And he will not be forgotten.”  
She lowered her head briefly. “Thankyou,” she whispered, and rose to her feet. He kept his hold on her hand, pulling her into his embrace to offer comfort. “Thankyou so much.” She pressed a tearful kiss to the soft skin of his neck.  
“You are welcome, _Nin mel _,” he replied. Leading her from the grave, he walked her over to where Belroch stood, patiently awaiting their return with Legolas.__  
“You know I will accompany you any time you wish to return here,” he told her, as they stopped beside the horse. “As frequently as you wish to return.”  
A grateful smile tugged at her lips, but she did not reply.  
In what had become an unspoken custom between the couple, he stood behind her, asking her permission to lift her up, which she gave. Belroch had not developed the habit of kneeling for her as Belan had, but somewhere deep inside, he suspected the horse was well aware of the intimacy of him lifting her, and what it had come to symbolise between them.  
Legolas shifted in his saddle. “I’m glad we have not faced any trouble,” he commented, casting his ever watchful gaze around. The guards were in the process of mounting their own horses, ready to accompany them back to the palace.  
Thranduil swung his weight up, settling comfortably behind Ava, tugging her back so she was nestled snugly between his open thighs. “I do not think even the orcs would be foolish enough to return so quickly,” he answered. “Although I suspect they might have done if we had waited any longer.”  
“Are you alright, Ava?” his son asked.  
She nodded. “Yes. I will be.”  
Thranduil slid his left arm around her, holding her tightly against him, as he lifted Belroch’s reins. She placed both arms on top of his, taking comfort from the close contact.  
She glanced over her shoulder as they turned away, risking one final look at the grave in which the old man would sleep his eternal sleep.  
Thranduil leaned down and placed a warm, tender kiss on her neck. “Be strong, my love,” he murmered into her ear.  
They left the clearing.  
*****

____

 

Thranduil pulled Ava to her feet, bored with watching her brood away in silence. He held her hand as he led her through the maze of turning and twisting hallways and corridors, until they reached the kitchens.  
“My Lord,” stuttered Faron nervously. “M’lady.” He refused to call her by name in front of his King, not wanting to run the risk of taking the full-on heat of his anger.  
Thranduil turned her at the huge wooden work station in the middle of the floor, pushing her down onto a stool, then turning away.  
She leaned her elbow on the surface and supported her chin with her hand, wondering what he was up to. Exchanging glances with Faron, she shrugged her shoulders.  
He took a loaf of freshly baked bread from the side, picking up a large serrated blade, and deftly sliced several pieces from it. The knife was tossed aside, to be replaced by an onion. Another knife was picked up, and he swiftly chopped it into small pieces, displaying a skill which took her by surprise, although she didn’t show it.  
“Store what is left,” he told the cook, sweeping what he did not require onto a plate. Faron scuttled away to do his bidding.  
A roast chicken was lifted down from a high shelf, and he carved slices from it. Occasionally he glanced up, his ice blue eyes catching Ava’s, but revealing nothing. She sat, contented to watch him.  
A block of cheese found itself at his mercy as he used yet another knife to slice it into thick wedges, followed by a block of butter.  
Amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched him work, but she straightened her expression as his eyes lifted to hers without warning, his hands not losing rhythm in what he was doing.  
“Tomatoes,” he said to Faron, without looking at him. “The small, sweet ones.”  
The cook handed a handful to him, and hurried off to fetch some more at the icy look cast his way.  
“You terrify him,” she said, breaking the silence.  
Blue ice glanced at her, but he said nothing.  
Within a few minutes, a plate of thick sandwiches was placed on the table in front of her, and he lowered his tall frame onto a stool across from her.  
“Leave us,” he said to Faron, without taking his eyes off her. “Go home for the night.”  
The cook muttered his gratitude and made a sharp exit, glad to be away from the presence of his King.  
Thranduil lifted a sandwich and held it out. “Eat.”  
“Are you back to feeding me again?” she asked, taking it from him and taking a bite. _Damn _. It tasted like heaven.__  
“If need be,” he answered. “You have been silent since yesterday, Ava.”  
Her gaze lowered. “I just have lots to think about,” she replied, swallowing and taking another bite.  
“Such as?” A raised eyebrow accompanied his question.  
She frowned, making to put the sandwich down, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in a gentle but firm grip, stopping her. “If this gift is so important, then why did I not foresee the danger to Orym?” she asked. “I do not understand a gift that will disappear and reappear at will.”  
He pursed his mouth, drawing her attention. “I too have been considering that,” he replied, lifting his feet and placing them both on the stool next to her.  
Her throat went dry at the sight of those long, muscled legs.  
He did not miss the arousal that flashed across her eyes. “The only reason I can come up with is that his death would not make a drastic change to the future,” he said. “I do not mean that in a disrespectful way my love, before you even think about stabbing me with one of Faron’s knives.”  
Her eyes must have betrayed her shock at what he had said.  
“You saw what was supposed to be my death, because you were given the opportunity to alter the outcome, and because if I was to die, everything as we know it would change,” he told her. “If we were still to be unmarried, the throne would be passed to Legolas, and we have no way of knowing what would happen afterwards. Maybe I was supposed to live for a reason.”  
She nodded slowly, contemplating his logic. Taking another bite of her sandwich, she thought about the old man who they had lost and buried the previous day. “No-one will miss him,” she said sadly. “He had no family, and I do not think he socialised with everyone else from the villages around him.”  
Thranduil watched her. “People choose their own existence,” he said. “I think you might find that he chose a life of solitude because it suited his purpose, rather than it being forced upon him. I understand that – I chose a life of solitude. And then you came along.” He grinned.  
“And ruined everything,” she said with humour.  
He shrugged. “And that reminds me. Have you given any thought as to when you want to make it official, and become my wife?”  
Her heart missed a beat.  
Blue ice continued to stare at her.  
“I have not really considered it,” she admitted. “I thought you would probably decide when the right time was.”  
“Now,” he said, shocking her.  
“What?!” she cried. “Now? Right now?”  
He tipped his head back and roared with laughter. The sound made every nerve ending in her body prickle to life in awareness. He didn’t laugh often, but it was a magical experience when he did. Lowering his head back to look at her, amusement still filled his eyes. “Three days from now.”  
The sandwich in her hand was forgotten. “Are you serious?”  
He nodded. “As serious as the sun rising in the mornings and the moon rising at night,” he replied. He leaned across the table, swinging his feet to the floor and closing the distance between them. “I want you as my wife Ava, as the Queen of Mirkwood. I want it official. I want you at my side day and night, I want to make decisions with you, I want to build a future with you. And if you ever reach a time in your life when you think you are open to the idea, I want to make babies with you. I love you.”  
She exhaled, her eyes huge. “You know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” she murmered, surprised at his honesty.  
He raised his rear up off the stool, touching his mouth to hers in a gentle caress. “There is nothing resembling a girl about you, my love,” he whispered. “ _You are all woman _.”__  
She smiled, looking away in embarrassment as he sat back down.  
Tipping her chin back and forcing her to look at him, he narrowed his eyes. “You mean everything to me, Ava. Everything. I promise on my life and those of everyone around me under my rule, you are the most important thing to ever happen to me. I do not ever want to lose you.”  
“You never will,” she promised. “You really mean three days?”  
He nodded. “Yes. I think it can be arranged. I have one request, however.”  
She tilted her head to one side, curious. “Which is..?”  
“I assume you have not given any thought to your wedding gown?” he said.  
She shook her head. “Absolutely none.”  
A coy smile spread across his face. “Do you trust me?”  
“With my life,” she answered immediately. “You want to design it.”  
“Yes,” he said. “I have an idea that has been in my head for many months, before I even confessed my feelings for you. I would like to follow it through.”  
“Then by all means, do so,” she said. “I believe in you.”  
He stood, kicking the stool back. “Why do we not take this upstairs, and get comfortable?” he said, picking up the plate. His eyes met hers, a mischievous gleam in them.  
She laughed, entwining her fingers through his as he offered her his other hand. “Why not?”  
*****

_____ _

 

Word spread like wildfire.  
Everybody in the kingdom was excitedly preparing for the upcoming wedding, with people arriving from far and wide to celebrate the marriage between Thranduil and Ava.  
One guest who she was thrilled to see was the legendary wizard who had initiated their meeting many moons ago.  
“Ava, come and let me introduce you,” Thranduil called out as she went past the open door of the throne room.  
She stepped inside, already knowing who his distinguished guest was.  
“My love, this is Mithrandir,” he said, his rich, velvet tones embracing her as much as the arm that slid around her waist and pulled her close to him.  
“My dear, it is truly a pleasure to finally meet you,” Gandalf said, holding his arm out.  
She smiled, moving briefly away from her lover to step into his embrace. “The pleasure is all mine, Mithrandir,” she said warmly. “We both have a lot to thank you for.” Stepping back into Thranduil’s hold, she cast him a smile too.  
“You make a lovely couple,” Gandalf observed, sitting down at the large table. “It seems like the future just might look a little brighter now you are going to be wed.”  
Thranduil pressed a kiss against her cheek. “She has certainly changed my life,” he said.  
“Saved it too, from what I hear,” Gandalf said. “Nice work Ava, my dear. I must say I am happy to see your gift is coming to fruition.”  
“It has been a long time in making itself known,” she said, lowering herself to sit as Thranduil pulled out a chair for her. His warm hands placed themselves comfortably on her shoulders once she was seated. “I often wondered if it would show, and what use I would have for it.”  
Gandalf took a drink from the herbal tea which had been placed on the table for him previously. “The gift is a strong one, Ava. You must learn to control it, and to decide wisely when to act. The fact that we are gathered here at this moment in time tells me that you have used that wisdom at least once already.”  
Her eyes lowered, and Thranduil’s hands tightened fractionally on her shoulders.  
“The vision she saw caused her much grief and anguish, Mithrandir,” he said quietly. “It caused both of us a lot of pain and suffering.”  
The elderly wizard nodded thoughtfully. “But the right choices were made at the end,” he surmised. “You-“ he pointed at the King “-are still alive. That speaks for itself. I too saw what Ava saw.”  
She frowned. “How did you see it?” she asked.  
“It came to me only a few nights past,” he replied. “On my journey here. I had no knowledge of it beforehand. I usually do not have the gift for seeing the future, just sometimes things of importance from days past.”  
“Pity,” Thranduil remarked. “We could have found a much easier way through it than we did.”  
“Yes...I did hear about the unfortunate position your lovely lady was forced into,” Gandalf said. “Very unpleasant. It doesn’t seem to have affected you though...I sense a very strong bond between you both.”  
Ava smiled. “We have come through a lot,” she said. “And I like to think it has brought us closer.”  
“I agree,” Thranduil said, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Excuse me for a moment.” With that, he turned and left the room.  
“Something troubles you, my dear,” Gandalf said, turning his attention to her.  
She crossed one knee over the other. “I do not understand a lot of what is happened,” she told him. “My entire life has been a huge lie, everything has been kept from me, nothing has turned out to be what it seemed. I have limited use of what I see, and someone dear to me died a violent death recently which I had no foresight of. It makes no sense at all.”  
The wizard sighed quietly. “It is a long road ahead of you Ava, and only you can learn how to control and utilise what you see and the ramifications,” he said. “Thranduil will guide you, as will I if you need me. But the bulk of what lies ahead rests on your shoulders. You did not see your friend’s passing because it did not drastically alter the future.”  
“Thranduil said something very similar to that,” she said. “He said if he had died, everything would change, therefore I could change that. But Orym dying would not have a huge effect.”  
“As harsh as it may sound, he is correct,” he said. “You will only see things that you have the power to intervene in, and make a decision on. It sounds strange, but there is a lot of literature available if you want me to pass it along to you.”  
“I would really appreciate that,” she said. “I think if I have more to work with, it might make things easier for me to manage what is going on with this whole situation.”  
“Your beloved tells me he is guiding you along several disciplines,” he noted, a cheery glimmer in his eyes.  
She smiled. “Yes. He has been so patient, as has Legolas. They have both given up considerable hours to help me develop different skills.”  
“And they will come in useful,” he remarked. “As for your family...I don’t know what to say...people can be evil to each other, and they seem to be driven and motivated by greed. It has been happening since the beginning of time unfortunately, and it appears it will continue to do so. There isn’t much we can do to address that, I’m afraid.”  
“I understand,” she replied. “All I can do is to look out for those who are dear to me, and to Thranduil, and try to support him in whatever quest he applies himself to.”  
Gandalf smiled under his overgrown beard. “He has chosen well, my dear,” he said. “I knew you would be the only one capable of melting that impenetrable wall of ice he has kept around his heart for centuries.”  
“Talking about me, Mithrandir?” Thranduil’s deep voice asked with a touch of humour as he reappeared at Ava’s back.  
“Merely complementing this lovely young lady’s ability to get through to you, my dear friend,” Gandalf replied. “There were times I wondered if such a female ever existed!”  
She struggled to hold in her amusement, but her shoulders shook under Thranduil’s hands and he tightened his fingers on her shoulders playfully.  
“Ava has more abilities than she gives herself credit for,” he said smoothly. “She will make an excellent Queen, and I know I have chosen well.”  
“Indeed you have,” the wizard agreed. “The one to rule at your side must be strong and wise – it looks like the future is set.”  
Ava didn’t comment, instead letting his words roll around in her head.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

 

Ava wrapped her arms around the pillow, sighing softly into the darkness. She was lonely.  
Nardual had told her about some custom of a couple not being allowed to see one another for two days and nights before the wedding, which had been met with a wail of dismay. She had immediately ran the length and breadth of the palace in search of Thranduil, who had confirmed her worst fears. He had told her of his plan to tell her at the last minute, rather than having her fret about it and ruin their last day together.  
She hadn’t been pleased.  
Now, as the darkness of night closed around her, she missed him so much it made her heart physically ache. She had caught the occasional glimpse of him from the other side of the palace once or twice, his arrogant swagger and self-aware smirk making her insides cry out for him. She missed his strong hold, his warm touch, his energy that drove her.  
Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about him. Deciding she couldn’t take any more, she slid out of bed, picked up the red velvet robe that he had left behind in their bedroom and crept along the hallway, cold grey stone smooth under her bare feet.  
She silently opened the door to the room where she knew he would be, sneaking in and closing it without a noise. The rug on the floor assisted her in her noiseless steps towards the huge bed, where she stopped.  
Thranduil lay on his back, one arm thrown above his head on the pillow. The blanket had slid to partway down his stomach, revealing toned muscle. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed in sleep, his long blond hair spread out on the pillow.  
She stood gazing at him for a few moments, absorbing the sight of him so near. Dropping the robe from her shoulders, she carefully slid under the cover, and wrapped her arms around his body. Settling her head on his chest, she closed her eyes in contentment.  
“The custom is two days and two nights,” his velvet voice caressed over her.  
“I missed you too much,” she whispered, pressing a kiss over his heart. “Are you angry?”  
A soft laughter rumbled up from his chest. “How could I be, _Nin mel _? I missed you too. I sneaked in and sat with you for a while last night.”__  
Her head shot up as she flew up onto one elbow. “What?” she wailed. “And you did not wake me?”  
He smiled, cupping her cheek with his warm hand. “You were so peaceful, my love. And I knew I really should at least make an attempt at keeping in with the custom.”  
“I think it’s ridiculous,” she grumbled, returning her head to his chest. “Can I stay with you tonight? Please do not send me away...I cannot sleep because I am cold and lonely, and I miss you and I need you to hold me, and-“  
He crushed her mouth under his, cutting off her flow of babbling words. Moving his lips softly against hers, he reduced her to a soft whimper within a few seconds. “Go to sleep, my love,” he whispered, as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “We have a big day tomorrow.”  
*****

____

 

Ava sighed, pushing Nardual’s well-meaning hand aside. “Just give me a minute, please,” she said.  
The loyal servant, who she had become firm friends with, stepped out of her way and patiently awaited further instructions. He had been hand-picked by Thranduil to tend to her before the wedding, helping her to prepare, have her hair and make-up done, and to make sure she had everything she needed. Nardual knew without being told that he would end up back in the dungeons if he failed in his task.  
Ava rose to her feet, her cheeks flushed.  
The dress Thranduil had designed had been ready for her when she had returned to her room earlier on in the morning, sneaking in before most of the staff were up and about. It was pale blue, made of the lightest, wispiest fabric she had ever seen, and hugged her curves as it floated down to the floor. The top plunged at the front, showing her cleavage without being distasteful, held up by thin straps over her shoulders. Ice blue gems had been painstakingly hand-stitched over the entire dress, and the sunlight gleamed off each one like diamonds.  
Her hair fell in soft curls down her back as Nardual had patiently twisted and tended to each lock. Smokey grey shadow smudged her upper eyelids, and charcoal black underlined her eyes, tipping up at the outer corners.  
Overall, she looked stunning.  
But she didn’t feel it.  
Breathing heavily, she paced the floor, trying to find a sense of peace.  
“M’lady, what is wrong?” Nardual asked, concern etched on his face.  
“Me...this...everything,” she said, sounding like she had run a mile. “I cannot do this...this is wrong!” She gesticulated with her hands, motions of panic.  
“M’lady, it is just a little wedding nerves,” he told her soothingly. “You look radiant. King Thranduil will be delighted when he sees you.”  
She shook her head. “I cannot do this,” she repeated. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I cannot go through with this.”  
“Just one moment, m’lady,” Nardual said, making a snap decision, and to hell with the consequences. He dashed out of the room and sprinted along the hallway, pounding furiously on a heavy oak door.  
Thranduil threw the door open, an angry look on his face.  
“My Lord, I realise this is highly unconventional-“  
“This had better be life and death,” he snarled.  
“It is Lady Ava...she needs you, my Lord,” Nardual finished, breathless.  
Thranduil’s eyes changed. He pushed past the servant, reaching Ava’s room in a few long strides. He went inside, closing the door at his back and shutting Nardual out.  
“Ava?” he said, his tone low.  
She turned to face him, and his mouth opened in shock.  
She was stunning. The dress he had designed caressed her like a second skin, the gems reflecting the sunlight like hundreds of little ice blue stars. Her hair was beautiful, and her makeup done to perfection.  
The look in her eyes however, froze him to the spot.  
“This is a mistake,” she whispered.  
He slowly took a step towards her. “Why do you say that, my love?” he asked.  
She sniffed, shaking her head and looking away from him. “It is all wrong. I am a mistake for you.”  
His eyebrows came down in a frown. “What are you talking about?”  
“Everything,” she said, her voice breaking as a tear rolled down her cheek.  
He stepped closer to her, using his thumb to wipe it away. “It is bad luck to cry on your wedding day,” he said softly.  
Her eyes locked with his, the love radiating from the ice blue depths almost stopping her heart. “I am so scared,” she said, a little above a whisper.  
“Why? Tell me,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek.  
“I will disappoint you,” she told him. “I will let you down, I will disappoint you and I cannot bear to see the look in your eyes when you realise that I cannot be the wife you want me to be.”  
“I do not understand why you would think this,” he said. “You are everything to me, I have never had reason to be disappointed in you until now, and I cannot see any reason why I should be in the future.”  
She shook her head, a few more tears escaping. “You are a _King _...you are used to the best in everything. I am not in that category.”__  
He frowned, anger flashing across his eyes. “Who has been telling you such things?” he wanted to know.  
“Nobody,” she replied truthfully. “It is just...everything. I have caused so much trouble since I came here, I am not of royal blood...I am not even Sindar. I have put you and countless others in danger so many times, so many lives have been lost because of me, because of who I am, what I am supposedly capable of. There has been nothing but trouble, heartbreak, death, deceit...ever since I set foot in Mirkwood. You cannot put up with that for the rest of your life Thranduil – you deserve so much better than that. You deserve someone better.”  
He let her speak, allowing her to vent what was obviously troubling her. As she stopped to breathe, he lifted his other hand to her other cheek, drawing her close to him and touching his lips to hers. His warm mouth gently rubbed hers, coaxing a soft moan from her. “There is no one better,” he whispered as he pulled back, less than an inch separating them. “You will never let me down, you will never disappoint me. The fact that you are not royal blood or Sindar means nothing. What is in my heart means everything. You are in my heart. You always have been, and you always will be. There will forever be trouble throughout middle earth, nothing we can do will ever stop that. But you do not add to it, Ava. You have lived a life based on lies and mistrust – I want to spend my life showing you the other side, the true way to live. Surrounded by love, honesty, and affection. You have sorely lacked this, and I want to be the one to show you them.” He paused, searching her uncertain eyes. “I have been married once before, my love, and I never dreamed I would feel like this again. This marriage will last until the end of time, as will my love for you. You cannot change that.”  
She sighed softly, resting her forehead against his. “I am terrified.”  
His arms slid around her back, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “I know. I am terrified too of the intensity of what I feel for you. But I would never change how I feel in my heart for anything in the world. You are my world.”  
She finally relaxed against him, and he felt the change in her.  
“So...will you do your King the honour of becoming his wife?” he teased, pulling back to look at her.  
She hesitated, reading the love in his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Yes,” she whispered eventually.  
His face creased in a wide smile. “Then let us get married.” He held his arm out.  
“I am not supposed to see you beforehand,” she pointed out.  
“It is a bit late for that, _Nin mel _,” he replied. “I say we forego tradition and do it our way, the way we will be ruling the kingdom in the centuries to come.”__  
She put her arm through his, lifted her skirts slightly and he led her from the room.  
Hushed whispers filled the air as they went through the palace, people stepping aside and bowing in respect. The hallways and corridors twisted and turned for what seemed like miles, and with each step Ava found herself feeling a deeper sense of becoming one with the warrior who walked with her.  
Nardual reappeared behind her and fussed with the back of her skirts as they entered the throne room, where Thranduil had voiced his wishes to be married. Hoards of people fell silent as they passed through the centre of the hall, the silence so heavy that Ava was sure everyone could hear her heartbeat.  
Adoring smiles met them as they walked arm in arm towards the foot of the throne, where the High Priest awaited them. Approving nods accompanied those friendly smiles, legions of people who had known Thranduil for centuries, who loved and respected him, and had gathered to pay their respects at the union between himself and his loved one.  
The priest spoke as they halted before him, but he spoke in Sindarin. Thranduil whispered the translation softly, so only she could hear, so she would understand. He spoke of love, commitment, unity throughout life, and blessings which would hopefully see them produce strong, healthy children in the years to come.  
Ava caught Legolas’s eye and he winked reassuringly at her. She returned the gesture with a smile.  
As the priest finished speaking, Thranduil turned to her, towering over her as he took both her hands in his.  
Taking a deep breath, he started to speak. “The journey through life is not always a happy, fruitful one,” he said. “There have been many heartaches, many times of darkness, many times of despair. That changed when you came into my life; you showed me how to live again, how to love again. I give you my oath, my heartfelt promise that I will do whatever it takes to keep you happy, to love you and cherish you, to protect you. I devote my heart and soul to you, until time ceases to pass. I love you.”  
Without taking his eyes off her, he took the silver crown Legolas handed to him. It matched his own, with the exception of having ice blue gems crafted into it. Placing it on her head, he closed his eyes and touched his mouth to hers in a gentle, tender kiss.  
The hall erupted, thunderous applause, cheering, and stamping echoing off the walls.  
She was finally his wife, the Queen of Mirkwood.  
Pulling back from her, Thranduil’s eyes sparkled. “Shall we, my Queen?” he asked, holding his arm out to her.  
She slid her arm through his. “I love you,” she said, lost in his eyes.  
He kissed her again, before leading her back through the centre of the crowd in the massive hall. Servants appeared and hurriedly scattered flower petals before them, creating a beautiful coloured pathway for them to tread on.  
“Well done Father, well done Ava,” Legolas said, embracing her and kissing her cheek. He released her, meeting Thranduil’s eyes. A second passed before father and son hugged each other, and she felt her heart swell at the unbreakable bond between the two.  
That opened up the chance for everyone to crowd around them, well-wishers who were pleased the marriage had finally taken place.  
“Whit took you so long?” Lord Dain demanded, heartily pumping Thranduil’s hand. “You shoulda made this woman yer wife a long time ago! Aye well...better late than never,” he chortled, and released him to kiss Ava’s cheek.  
She grinned in amusement, having to bend right down to reach the dwarf’s small height. “Thankyou, Lord Dain,” she said. “I’m glad you could be here.”  
“I wouldnae miss the chance to see old pointy-ears here making an honest woman outta you,” he replied, to a chorus of laughter.  
Ava glanced at him, to see him fighting off his amusement.  
Gandalf appeared at her elbow, and embraced her in a warm hug as Dain took the hint and stepped back. “This union pleases me no end, my dear,” he told her. “May you both be blessed with the happiness you both truly deserve.”  
“Thankyou, Mithrandir,” she said with genuine warmth. “We owe everything to you.”  
He humphed. “Fate would have stepped in one way or another,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “As it was, fate was taking too long.”  
“And here I thought you were a patient man,” Thranduil said, shaking his hand.  
“I wanted you two to be joined in marriage before you get too old,” the wizard joked.  
The celebrations continued all day, well into the night.  
Elves, dwarves, and humans joined together and partied the night away. Ava lost count of the amount of half-comatose bodies she stepped over, people having ingested too much wine and were passed out in allsorts of strange places and in odd positions. She chose not to have any herself, apart from the obligatory wine she had to share with Thranduil as part of the wedding custom. Preferring to have a clear head, she grinned at the sight of so many drunk elves passed out after trying to out-drink the dwarves.  
“Ava, my Queen,” Thranduil called, as she stepped over an upside-down elf.  
She raised her eyes as she neared him, her heart stopping.  
He smiled at her, holding his right hand out to her.  
She had seen this before.  
Her very first vision.  
Her heart thudded back into rhythm as she stopped at his side. Taking his hand, she matched his loving smile with his, then screeched with laughter as he dragged her across his lap.  
“I finally have you,” he laughed, kissing her. “I thought you had deserted me in favour of the drunks littering the halls.”  
“Never,” she laughed. “They will suffer come sunrise; I can only guess what kind of headaches they will have.”  
“They never learn,” Gandalf observed, bringing his almost-empty wine down on the table with a thump. “They should know by now that elvesh cannot drink more than dwarvesh.”  
She started laughing – Gandalf was well on his way to being one of those drunks.  
“I think we should sneak away,” Thranduil whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Nobody will notice.”  
Blue eyes met his, and she felt the familiar ache between her legs as he met her gaze. “I think we should,” she whispered back.  
Gently but firmly shifting her from his knees, he stood, taking her hand as he swept a glance around the hall. She followed as he tugged her hand, leading her out through the crowds of paralytic party-goers. They crashed through the rear door into the empty corridor, giggling and laughing.  
“I want you so much, my wife,” he moaned, dragging her into his arms and crushing his mouth to hers. “I could not take my eyes off you all day...you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”  
She returned his kiss, standing on her toes as his tongue swept inside her mouth, her knees turning to jelly. Passion raced through her body, the need to mate with him burning strong. His mouth kissed down her neck, his hands lifting to cup her breasts through the silky fabric of her wedding gown.  
“This gown is beautiful,” he whispered against her flesh. “But right now I want to tear it off you and worship what is underneath.”  
Her breath caught in her throat as his large warm hands closed over her, his thumbs teasing her nipples which instantly jumped to attention.  
“Uh...can you not go somewhere a little less public?” a voice asked in amusement. “I know you are just married, but some things should not be done in the open.”  
They broke apart to see Legolas wandering past supporting an unsteady dwarf, a devilish grin on his face.  
“Then step aside,” Thranduil growled, his tone carrying no malice. He swung her up into her arms, and his son burst out laughing, muttering something about a Neanderthal as he hurried the drunk dwarf out of sight along the corridor.  
“This night is ours, my love,” he said, gazing deep into her eyes.  
She stared back, lost in the depth of the ice blue. “This night and every night from now,” she whispered, lifting her mouth to his.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

 

The pale blue dress was half off by the time they bundled through the doorway into their bedroom, laughing and whispering as they sneaked past guards, guests, and various others who milled around. Kicking the heavy door closed and locking it, Thranduil lowered Ava to her feet, crushing her body to his as he explored her mouth with growing passion.  
“Mine,” he purred. “Only ever mine.”  
“Only ever was, only ever will be,” she murmered against his mouth, desperate to feel his warm flesh against hers. The edge of the bed touched the back of her knees as she fumbled with his clothing, fighting her way under garments that had no business hiding his body from her.  
They went down onto the soft surface, pulling and tearing at fabric in their need to touch each other. The gown ended up tossed haphazardly on the floor, followed by his robe and his tunic.  
She moaned in delight as her hands caressed the solid muscles of his arms and chest, lifting her eyes to his as he towered over her, his weight braced on his hands on either side of her. His long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, tickling her breasts and stomach, exciting her further.  
Ice blue eyes held hers, and they stilled for a moment.  
“I love you more than anything, Ava _Nin mel _,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”__  
She interlocked her fingers around his neck, urging him down to her. “I love you so much more, my King, my husband,” she whispered back, as his mouth met hers. His tongue pushed inside, eagerly exploring and dancing with hers in a battle as old as time. She heaved her weight to one side, rolling him over onto his back and sitting astride him, taking control.  
A deep groan rumbled from his throat as she gyrated her hips slowly, teasing him through the fabric of his tight trousers. Trousers which were hiding a gloriously huge prize which she was intent on releasing.  
Dragging her mouth from his, she smiled lazily as she kissed her way down his neck, biting hard and licking the areas when she felt him squirm under her in painful pleasure. Her kisses trailed down his chest, and down over his abdomen. Steel muscles under velvet-soft skin clenched and hardened as she moved lower, and his hips lifted up slightly.  
Undoing his trousers, she slowly pulled them down past his hips, and he murmered something unintelligible as he sprang free at last. She caressed his length with her forefinger and thumb, a gentle, teasing touch that made him jerk. Rubbing her thumb across the wet tip, she smiled as he hissed between his teeth, rolling his hips into her hand.  
“Do not make me beg, _Nin mel _,” he gasped, sensations of ecstasy flushing upwards from his toes.__  
She didn’t answer, instead tipping forward and running her tongue where her thumb had been. He gripped the blankets, breathing heavily. Encouraged, she leaned forward a little more, taking him in her mouth.  
He made a grunting noise that sounded like an animal, and she flicked her gaze up at him. He was twisting his head from side to side, restless, seeking release.  
Too soon.  
Sliding her mouth back up, she circled his tip with her tongue, playfully tickling him and tasting him. She suddenly took him deep again, until he hit the back of her throat. He cursed rapidly in Sindarin, making her smile to herself. Her hand tightened its grip around the base of him, moving up and down his length in rhythm with her mouth. Her other hand caressed underneath, causing him to buck underneath her. He tangled one fist in her hair, pulling hard as she continued her task of pleasuring him.  
The movements of his hips became faster, his rhythm breaking . He released her hair, gripping her by the shoulders with both strong hands and dragging her up the length of his body, where he rolled her over and pinned her below him.  
“I am too close to coming,” he whispered raggedly. “And I will not finish like that. I want to come inside you.”  
Her knees automatically parted, as his mouth found hers and he kissed her with bruising passion.  
“You do not know what you do to me,” he panted, as he pushed into her, finding her hot, wet, and ready for him. She lifted her feet and crossed them over his back, tugging him deeper. His hips rocked into her, each thrust making her gasp in pleasure.  
Balancing his weight on his elbows, he kissed her again, his tongue mimicking their intimate joining as he moved within her. Her world spun out of control as the waves of pleasure mounted, rolling back over and over again. She searched for his hands, entwining her fingers through his, gripping hard.  
“I need to come,” she panted. “Let me come, Thranduil, please let me come.”  
“Your wish is my command,” he replied, his voice a husky, breathless whisper. “Lift your knee up.”  
She complied, and he released one of her hands to brace her knee against his chest, lifting his upper body up away from her. The change in depth of his penetration made her howl, sparks shooting through her body.  
“Is that better, my love?” he whispered, his eyes glazed with lust.  
She couldn’t reply, her voice useless as he pounded deep into her and rendering her unable to form any words. He rotated his hips as he thrust forwards, increasing the sensations and touching her in places that had never been touched.  
Her panting increased, her body tensed, and every muscle tightened to breaking point as she tumbled over the edge and crashed down into euphoric bliss, her body clenching rapidly around him.  
He thrust harder into her, sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades. Her hot core gripped him in a tight hold, sending his senses spiralling out of control. He tilted his head back, teeth clenched, as she reached down and caressed soft sac between his legs. Throwing his head forward again, his long hair tumbled onto her as he gave a final thrust, erupting like a volcano deep inside. His arms trembled with the effort of holding his weight as he emptied everything he had into her, his lungs working hard to take in the air he desperately needed. As his body jerked for a final time, he sank down into her arms, gasping and panting. Her arms went up around his shoulders, her lips pressing soft butterfly kisses along his jaw.  
He turned his head, capturing her mouth with his, and kissing her deeply. Her internal muscles clenched, making him jump.  
“You are indeed a demon,” he laughed, pushing his hair out of his face.  
She smiled up at him, never having seen so much as a hair out of place. “Tell me you do not approve,” she challenged.  
“Oh I definitely approve,” he murmered, placing another kiss on her eager mouth. “You can do whatever you want with me, any time you choose. I shall never complain.”  
She tightened her hold on him as he settled again, his head on her shoulder. “I still cannot believe this is true,” she murmered dreamily as she trailed her fingers through his silken hair.  
“Well believe it,” he replied, sounding as content and sleepy as she felt. “For this is real. It does not get any more real than this, my love.” His eyes drifted closed, and he relaxed under the gentle whisper of her fingertips through his hair.  
*****

_____ _

 

Thranduil opened his eyes, annoyed at being woken at such an early hour. He muttered a curse as he slid out of bed, reluctant to leave the warm, sated body of his wife. They had made love several times through the night, waking up and starting all over again before drifting back to sleep.  
Tugging on a silk robe, he tied the belt and padded barefoot over to the door.  
He swung it open, eyeing the guard who stood there impatiently.  
“My Lord, I...oooh...nice...” the guard trailed off, his gaze lingering past Thranduil’s right arm.  
He turned, and fury radiated through him.  
Ava had turned onto her stomach, and the blanket had worked its way down, revealing her bare back and the upper swell of her buttocks. One bare leg was thrown over the blankets in a deep, relaxed sleep.  
He turned back to the guard, who was practically salivating. Grabbing him by the throat, he shoved him hard against the far wall. “You do not ever disrespect my wife,” he snarled. “You do not look at her, you do not think about her, is that understood?” He shoved him again, with force against the unyielding stone. “Do I make myself clear?!”  
“Y..yy..yes, my Lord,” the guard gasped, struggling for breath.  
Thranduil kept his grip on him as he glared at him, sorely tempted to behead him on the spot. He finally loosened his hold, before the smaller man turned purple. He fell to his knees, coughing and choking.  
“Get up,” Thranduil ordered.  
He staggered back to his feet. “M..my Lord, Mithrandir has spoken of extending his stay a little longer,” he gasped, holding his throat.  
“And this could not wait until a later hour, you had to bring it to my attention right now?” Thranduil demanded. He leaned down, his face right in the guard’s face. “Get out of my sight.”  
The guard scuttled off, still holding his throat.  
Thranduil inhaled deeply through his nose, furious. He had not wanted to be disturbed at such an early hour, much less for something as trivial as a guest wishing to stay longer. What burned him was the way the guard had leered at Ava. He could almost hear the twisted thoughts that had run through the other man’s mind at the sight of her naked body sprawled across the bed.  
Going back into the room and closing the door, he went back to the bed and shrugged the robe to the floor. Her arms came up around him as he settled back next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to lie across his chest. She murmered sleepily and he pressed a kiss to her temple, pulling the blankets back up over her.  
The palace, the kingdom, and life could wait. The only place he wanted to be was in bed, in her arms.  
*****

 

The palace was a mess.  
Ava shook her head in amazement as she stopped just inside the doorway of the great hall, where their wedding had taken place the previous day. Thranduil stopped behind her, resting his chin on the top of her head as his arms slid around her.  
“I have seen tidier battlefields,” she murmered. “Look at this.” She felt the laughter rumble up through his chest as he stood pressed against her back.  
“This can be cleared and cleaned,” he assured her. “Such matters should not bother you, my love. Do not worry about it.”  
A frown settled over her eyes. “Should this not have been cleared through the night?”  
“I am happy, I do not care,” he replied, kissing her neck. “Come. I am also hungry, and you must be too.”  
She mmm’d in agreement, taking the hand he offered and allowing him to lead her through the devastation.  
Gandalf was already seated at an empty space at the table, holding his head in his hands.  
“Aches and pains, my friend?” Thranduil laughed as he pulled a chair out for Ava. He pushed gently on her shoulders for her to sit, then took the seat next to her.  
“Just a sign of getting old,” the wizard grumbled. “That, and not being able to hold my liquor anymore.”  
She laughed, accepting the warm bread Thranduil passed to her. Butter had melted over it, and she closed her eyes in delight as she took a hearty bite. “Oh my...this tastes delicious,” she said. “Faron must be on extra time down in the kitchens.”  
“I intended to have a word with you, Thranduil,” Gandalf said, frowning as he lowered his hands to the table.  
“You wish to extend your stay,” the King replied. “You are more than welcome to stay here as long as you wish.” A genuine smile accompanied his words.  
“Thankyou. I feel like I could benefit from some time out of my usual existence, some time amongst friends,” Gandalf replied. “Also, I would like to get to know your lovely wife a little better.”  
“That seems to be quite a trait these days,” Thranduil muttered.  
Ava glanced at him, a concerned look in her eyes. “What do you mean?”  
“Nothing.” He flashed a tight smile at her as he took a slice of warm bread.  
She twisted around in her chair. “Do not lie to me...what is wrong?”  
Gandalf watched the two with interest, raising one eyebrow as he caught Thranduil’s eye. “I must admit, I am intrigued also,” he said.  
Thranduil sighed. “One of the guards came to our bedroom early this morning,” he said.  
Ava frowned. “I did not hear anything,” she said. “I must have slept through.”  
“And I am glad you did,” he said dryly. “I opened the door and he inadvertently got an eyeful. Thank heavens you were lying on your stomach.”  
She gasped. “Oh no!” An embarrassed giggle escaped. “Damn...”  
“Yes, I think he is thinking along those lines right now,” he said. “He is lucky he has the ability to think at all. He has no idea how tempted I was to take his head off.”  
She scoffed. “You are over-reacting.”  
Heavy eyebrows arched. “You did not see him leering over you,” he said, and her playful smile vanished. “Exactly. He is now aware that he does not even think about you. Damned fool knocking the door so early.”  
“What did he want?” she asked, and grabbed a pitcher of fruit juice from a passing servant.  
“To inform me of Mithrandir’s wishes to stay longer,” he told her. “Like it was a matter of extreme urgency and could not wait until sunrise.”  
Gandalf chuckled. “I did not mean to place you in a bad situation,” he said. “I merely mentioned it to Legolas through the night. I think he was trying to escort me to my room, or something along those lines. Too fuzzy to remember.”  
Ava laughed, picturing poor Legolas who seemed to have spent the entire day and night taking drunk guests from here to there. “I wonder if he had any time to enjoy himself?” she mused aloud.  
“I did see him snuggled in a corner with a pretty little elf,” Gandalf said. “So to answer your question my dear, I would say yes. He enjoyed himself.”  
_He was not the only one _.__  
Ava’s head whipped around and she stared at Thranduil, who blinked innocently. She opened her mouth to reply to the words only she had heard, but thought better of it and closed it again. “So...how long are you planning on staying?” she asked the wizard. “Is there anything you will need while you are with us?”  
He shook his head. “No, no, everything is splendid,” he answered. “I would just like some time away from the turmoil and problems of the outside world for a short time. No, I have everything I need.”  
“You will always be welcome here,” she said, reaching across and taking his hand in her own. “I do not know what would have happened if you had not initiated things.” Her eyes met Thranduil’s, and he smiled.  
“Yes...we are forever indebted to you,” he said. “And we are at your disposal for as long as you wish. Not just myself and Ava, but my entire staff. Do not hesitate to say if there is anything you require.”  
“Thankyou, my friends...and I say friends rather than friend because I know I have not lost a friend to marriage, but gained another one through marriage,” Gandalf said.  
Ava smiled warmly, already knowing deep in her heart that this was a solid friendship that would stand the test of time.  
*****

____

 

Thranduil scratched the back of his neck, irritated. He did not want to be attending his duties, he wanted to be spending the day with his wife. He wanted to be out riding with her, walking through the forest with her, sharing meals with her, sharing his body with her.  
Instead, he was stuck listening to his captain complaining about the workload expected of his company.  
“Let them know things will be back to usual within three days,” he said, bored out of his mind. “Until then, all patrols will be kept as they are, and security on our borders remain likewise. They do not ease off until our guests have left the realm, understood?”  
“Yes, my Lord,” the captain replied with a bow.  
“If that is all..?” he asked, in a tone that clearly conveyed that it better had be all, for the captain’s sake.  
Moments later, he was in search of Ava.  
After searching the length and breadth of the palace, a thought suddenly struck him and he turned mid-stride, changing direction. He knew exactly where she was – she had been too quiet all day.  
Loud shouting and yelling reached his ears as he approached the door to the hall, and he shook his head as he opened it.  
Ava was in the middle of the hall, surrounded by elves and buckets of hot, soapy water. She was issuing orders and directions, while herself working tirelessly. Most of the carnage that had littered the hall had been cleared away, surfaces scrubbed and polished, and the hall had started to resemble its former glory.  
Ava herself was filthy. Her white dress was stained, the bottom edge ripped, and one of her shoulder straps had torn away from the bodice.  
He mentally thanked the gods for her being blessed with a generous bust, otherwise the top of the dress would not have held up.  
She circulated amongst the workers, directing them and helping them to move tables and chairs back to their original positions.  
Thranduil’s eyes opened wide as she jumped up onto a table, standing on her toes to reach an empty wine goblet that had been tastefully planted high up on stag antlers. Marching towards her, he reached up and grabbed her around the waist as she tottered on her toes trying to reach up.  
“How many times must I tell you, do not put yourself in a dangerous position,” he said, swinging her down into his arms.  
She gazed up at him, and any irritation he felt disappeared. Her hair was a mess, and she had streaks of dirt and dust over her cheeks and her forehead. Innocent blue eyes held his, and his heart melted.  
He lowered his head and kissed her, drawing the contact out as long as he could without going further while they were surrounded by other people.  
“You should not be doing this,” he said softly. “You are the Queen, not a servant.”  
She blinked. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But we did help make this mess. It is only right that I help clean it up.”  
He took a deep breath, indicating for one of the servants to come over. “Remove that,” he ordered, nodding to the offending goblet which had been just too high for her to reach. “And you, my beautiful wife, are in desperate need of a bath,” he added to Ava.  
He strode out of the hall with her still in his arms, and left the staff to finish the cleaning.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

 

The palace slowly returned to normal.  
Some of the elves had continued to celebrate for a few days after the wedding, but eventually went back to their duties, under the watchful eye of their new Queen who made sure they cleared up the mess they had intended on leaving for others. She made sure they were aware of her change in status, not so that she could order them around, but in the sense that they would not get away with abusing the King’s trust or his lack of attention if he was occupied elsewhere.  
This was their home, and she was determined it would be looked after.  
Thranduil and Gandalf spent long hours in deep conversation, trying to fathom out a solution to the oncoming war between the two elf lands who were still in deadlock. They also discussed Ava at length, and she was well aware of them discussing her without even having to be present.  
They were in such a discussion when she went into the hidden book room, finding them sitting surrounded by books.  
“Hmm, having a lazy day reading?” she teased, leaning down to kiss her husband.  
“Researching important facts, my dear,” Gandalf replied, sucking on his pipe as he turned the pages over in the book which held his attention. “There are a lot of conflicting theories in print.”  
She leaned her forearms over Thranduil’s shoulders, her abdomen pressed against his warm back. “Then I suppose the answer lies with reading everything and cross-referencing what you learn,” she said. “Otherwise, you have no way of knowing what is truth and what is not.”  
“What have you been doing?” he asked, turning his head so she had a heart-stopping view of his profile.  
“I took Belan out for a ride,” she replied. “I feel like I have not spent a lot of time with her recently, and I felt really bad about it.” She trailed one hand through the ends of his hair as she spoke.  
“Is she settled?” he asked.  
She nodded. “Yes. I think one of the other horses is very close to giving birth.”  
“A new addition,” Gandalf murmered, only half-listening to the conversation.  
“I am a bit concerned for the mother though,” she said. “She seems to be really restless, and is pacing back and forth continually. I spent some time with her, but she did not settle at all.”  
“The birth is imminent then,” Thranduil told her. “I shall send Nardual to stay with her until the foal arrives. He has much experience with birthing horses.”  
“You had maybe better send his loved one too,” she remarked. “I am sure things are about to happen between them.”  
He grinned. “I thought I could sense something between them yesterday when I passed them coming from the kitchens.”  
Gandalf picked up his wine goblet, tutting in disappointment as he found it empty.  
“Allow me,” Ava said, reaching over and taking it from him.  
“No,” Thranduil said, taking it from her. He stood and left the room, walking out onto the stone ledge and calling down to the guards to fetch more wine. “We have servants for that,” he said at her questioning look when he went back in and sat down. “Come sit with us, my love.”  
She sat down on the seat next to him as he patted it, and picked up a book from the pile mounted on the small wooden table. “Another magical, mystical tongue,” she murmered, flicking through the pages. She replaced it, catching Thranduil’s eye and the mischievous sparkle that flashed there. Blushing, she leaned back and closed her eyes.  
Immediately, she felt like she was going to vomit. She lurched forwards, tipping her head down until it was between her knees, as the ground beneath her feet tipped and lurched violently. Darkness closed in around her, Gandalf and Thranduil’s voices becoming distant and muffled. She gasped, her lungs expanding to take in more air. A loud buzzing echoed in her ears and she felt like a heavy weight was being placed on her chest, preventing her from breathing properly.  
The sensation slowly cleared, and she found Thranduil on his knees in front of her, his hands framing her face, concern and panic in his eyes.  
“Ava...what happened?” he asked.  
Gandalf loomed over his shoulder, he too with a concerned look on his face.  
She shook her head. “I do not know,” she whispered, her eyebrows coming down into a frown. Her eyes met Thranduil’s. “Whatever it was, it was not mine.”  
He returned her frown. “I do not understand.”  
“I picked it up from someone else,” she said. “I cannot make sense of it. Maybe it will be clearer later. Whatever I felt was not for me, it was what someone else is feeling...or will be feeling.”  
The two men exchanged looks.  
“Maybe you should lie down and rest,” Thranduil said.  
“No. Whatever it was has passed,” she said. “That was so weird.”  
Gandalf pointed his pipe in her direction. “It looks like your gift is coming through stronger than before,” he commented. “Although it is not telling us who this will affect.”  
“It is not much use to me in that case,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “I am fine now, honestly, my love,” she said to Thranduil, who remained on his knees.  
“I am not convinced,” he replied.  
“There is no need to fuss,” she assured him. “I am not affected in any way.”  
Frowning, he released her slowly and reclaimed his seat next to her on the couch, not taking his eyes off her.  
The guard appeared with three goblets of wine before he could say anything further, and placed the tray down on the table.  
Gandalf nodded to him as he bowed and left, while Thranduil glared at the guard’s back. It was the same one who had awoken him the morning after the wedding and had been treated to an eyeful of his naked wife.  
He took one of the goblets and handed it to her, taking one for himself as the wizard took the remaining one.  
“It seems like we must apply ourselves to learning as much as we can about this, and to learn quickly,” Gandalf observed. “Tell me, my dear...do you hear sounds when you have these visions?”  
She nodded as she swirled her wine around in circles. “Sometimes. When I saw...when I saw Thranduil, I heard him.” She fell silent, still disturbed at what she had seen.  
He reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It has passed, _Nin mel _,” he said. “I am here now.”__  
She met his eyes, and he could tell she was not looking at him, but at the horror of what she had seen.  
“Maybe we should rest for a while,” he said. “There are so many books to go through, and we have been up here for most of the day and still not found anything of use. Perhaps a walk before supper would be ideal to relax.” He sipped his wine as he spoke.  
Ava nodded. “I agree,” she said, and placed her wine on the table as she rose to her feet.  
Thranduil followed suit, downing his wine and placing the empty goblet beside her full one. “Come. It is a beautiful evening, and it would be a shame to waste it. Will you accompany us, Mithrandir?”  
Gandalf smiled. “I would be delighted to,” he replied. “I hear there is a white stag which roams not far from here.”  
Ava turned to him, a joyous smile on her face. “I have seen him, he is beautiful,” she said. “Absolutely gorgeous...you must see him while you are here.”  
Thranduil smiled, leading her out onto the stone ledge, and going down the steps in front of her to ensure she didn’t slip.  
*****

____

 

The evening progressed, with the darkness falling and the moon rising to light up the forest. Thranduil stood at the window, staring out across the trees.  
He didn’t feel quite right, but was unable to put his finger on the source of the problem.  
Turning away from the window, he stepped down off the small step onto the bedroom floor, when a sudden dizziness took hold of him. He winced, holding the heels of both hands to his head. The room spun around him, picking up pace and moving faster. He retched as his stomach tried to empty itself, but nothing came up.  
Using one hand against the wall for balance, he made his way over towards the bed, and gasped for breath as he stopped after a few steps. He heaved as he tried to breathe, but found he couldn’t regulate his air intake. Pain crushed his chest, like something heavy was pushing against him.  
Darkness closed in around him, and the dizziness intensified. Bending forward, he dropped his head below waist level, to try and regain some sense of balance and control.  
“Thranduil? Are you alright?”  
Ava’s voice sounded so muffled, he had trouble working out who had come into the room. She sounded as though she was miles away, talking through a thickly padded wall, her words heavy and melding together.  
“Thranduil, speak to me,” she insisted. But her voice changed, altered into a different voice. A voice of danger and darkness, a voice of evil. “What happened? Let me help you.”  
He reared up violently, bringing his closed fist up at speed. He felt his punch connect, and heard a cry of pain.  
Ava staggered backwards a few steps, horror flushing through her. Lifting her hand to her cheek, she saw fresh blood. The ring he wore on his index finger had torn the skin below her eye, and she could feel a trickle of blood running down her face.  
The air left her lungs as he lunged forwards, grabbing her wrists. She cried out as his grip squeezed, cutting off the blood supply to her hands.  
“Let me go!” she shouted, panicking.  
His grip intensified. She wriggled and squirmed, but it was useless. Letting her limbs go limp, his grip loosened fractionally, just enough for her to wrench free. She spun away from him, but a fist closed in her hair, dragging her backwards.  
She knew there was no use in screaming. Any guards in the vicinity would not respond, knowing better than to enter the King’s private bedroom.  
Thranduil fought to clear his head as fire burned through his body, the sense of evil pounding through his senses as clear as day. His only thought was to destroy the dark force in front of him, to survive.  
He lashed out at the unseen demon, the knowledge of inflicting pain flicking around at the edges of his subconscious mind. The demon fought hard, and he struggled to withstand the power from it.  
Ava’s head rolled to one side as he hit her again and again, tasting blood in her mouth. Her mind worked frantically, trying to figure out what had possessed her loving husband to turn with no warning. She pushed hard against his chest, enough to create a space between them. Her eyes lifted to his and she gasped in shock.  
His eyes were no longer ice blue.  
They were almost black.  
What the _hell _..?__  
One hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off her feet with an inexplicable strength. She twisted and wriggled, his strong fingers crushing her throat and cutting off her oxygen. Blackness started to close in around her and stars burst behind her eyes. She thought she was going to die, when he threw her across the room, and she crashed against the far wall. Sliding down onto the floor, tears of pain and fear escaped, every bone in her body aching.  
He strode over to her before she could move out of his way, his steps staggered and unsteady. Her eyebrows came down in a confused frown, but she didn’t have time to process what she was seeing as he grabbed her and dragged her to the middle of the floor, sitting astride her stomach and pinning her down. The screech of metal met her ears as he unsheathed his sword, and automatically her hands flew up. He held the sword above her, horizontally across her throat, but she held fast and pushed with all her strength.  
He was far stronger, and used his weight to force the blade towards her neck. Taking a deep breath, she screamed with everything she had, out of sheer desperation.  
The door burst open at the same time as the blade cut her skin, and the next thing she knew was a burst of energy accompanied by a blast of white light, and Thranduil was knocked off her by an unseen force.  
She rolled over facing away from him, panting for breath.  
Gandalf hurried over, quickly helping her to her feet. “Ava, what happened here?” he asked, casting a worried glance at Thranduil, who lay motionless on the floor.  
“I do not know,” she sobbed. “Something is not right, Mithrandir – this is not him. His eyes have changed colour, I do not know what has happened.”  
Gandalf’s eyes widened in horror. He swung away from her, dropping to a crouch beside the unconscious King. “My god,” he muttered. “We need a miracle, and we need it fast. Ava – tell the guards we need Legolas immediately!”  
She ran from the room, screaming for the guards who were congregated at the end of the long corridor.  
Gandalf remained with Thranduil, his hands hovering over his body but not touching him. “He has been poisoned,” he told her, worried eyes lifting to hers. “We may be too late.”  
Her mouth fell open. “That must have been what I felt, earlier this evening,” she whispered. “Oh no...oh no!” An anguished wail tore itself from her as she dropped to her knees beside her husband. “Why did I not see this sooner? Why could I not have prevented this?” Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she looked over at the wizard.  
“I do not know,” he said, an air of defeat in his voice.  
Legolas charged into the room, coming to an abrupt halt as he took in the scene before him.  
“No time for explanations now, my boy,” Gandalf told him. “We must try and heal him, he has been poisoned. Help me move him from the floor.”  
“Who would do this?” Legolas cried, as between the three of them, they struggled to lift his father up onto the bed.  
Ava shook her head, still crying.  
“Did he do this to you?” he asked, tipping her chin up and studying her injuries.  
“I do not think he knew what he was doing,” she replied, her eyes still on Thranduil. “It was almost like he was taken over by an unseen force or something.”  
Gandalf muttered to himself in a tongue she did not know, as his hands again hovered over Thranduil. He opened one of his eyes, recoiling in shock as he saw what Ava had told him. “I know what has caused this,” he growled, back in his own language. He turned swiftly to Legolas, issuing him instructions. He demanded four different types of plants, plants she had never heard of. He took off at a run, and was soon back with them.  
She stepped back a little and watched as Gandalf mixed them and soaked them in hot water, muttering away in a voice too low for her to understand his words.  
“I shall get the nurse to tend to you,” Legolas said softly.  
She shook her head. “No. I do not wish anyone to know of this,” she said. “No-one. I shall take care of it myself.”  
He hesitated before nodding. If that was her wish, then so be it. He himself didn’t relish the idea of his father beating up his wife and the news spreading around the realm faster than the eagles could fly.  
The wizard returned to the bedside and lifted Thranduil’s head. “Open his mouth,” he ordered Legolas. He complied, and Gandalf tipped the mixture down his throat.  
Thranduil gagged and gasped for breath, but didn’t regain consciousness. The two men fought to hold him still, the whole cup of the mixture eventually being forced down him.  
Exhausted, they lowered him back down, and stepped back.  
“Now we have to pray for the miracle of miracles,” Gandalf said, to no-one in particular. “This is a strong poison, almost always fatal.”  
Ava folded her arms across her chest, crying quietly.  
“How on earth did he get it?” Legolas asked.  
“If I am not mistaken, we have all eaten and drank the same today,” Gandalf replied, turning to Ava for clarification. She nodded, numbly. “We all had our meals together, we were in one another’s company throughout the day. This is a mystery to me.”  
Realisation slowly dawned on her. “The wine,” she whispered, turning wide eyes to the wizard. “The wine! I did not have mine, and you left yours also. We went for a walk before supper – he drank his before we left.”  
Gandalf gazed at her. “I think you might be right,” he said slowly. “Who brought it?”  
“One of the guards,” she replied. “The pitcher was down on the table in the hall, and Thranduil shouted down for him to bring some more upstairs.”  
Legolas sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Who brought it up?”  
“I do not know his name,” she said sadly. “I have only seen him a handful of times in the time I have been here.”  
“We will hunt him down,” he vowed. “And I will personally end his sorry life.”  
“Your father’s life hangs precariously in the balance here,” Gandalf pointed out, his tone gentle. “Hold back on your revenge for now. The time will come for that.”  
“What do we do now?” Ava asked him.  
“We wait,” he said simply. “I will put some spells to good use, and with a bit of luck, he might just pull through this. But prepare yourself that he also might not.”  
Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks again.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

 

Ava stayed at Thranduil’s side throughout the night, the next day, and the following night. Gandalf spent most of his time with them, casting spells and working magic in his own unique way. Legolas left the room only to bring them food, refusing to allow anyone else in the vicinity.  
Thranduil remained unconscious, for all intents and purposes dead to everything around him. His breathing was laboured, his fever spiked, and on the second morning, his breathing levelled out.  
Gandalf lifted one of his eyelids, peering closely. “Hmm,” he murmered. “It seems like that miracle we prayed for has happened after all.”  
Ava felt relief wash over her. His eyes had turned back to ice blue, and it looked as though the poison had drained from his body.  
Legolas rose to his feet, yawning and stretching. “Ava, I am going to grab a short sleep,” he said, padding over to the massive bed.  
She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply.  
He went to sit down, but stopped mid-motion as he caught her look. “Oh no,” he groaned, causing her to smile a little. “Is there anywhere safe in here that you two haven’t done it on?!”  
Again she said nothing, just maintained a dignified silence and her secretive little smile.  
He muttered something in Sindarin, settling instead on the stone wall by the ledge and stretching out along it.  
“You will fall from there,” she told him. “Just lie on the bed, for heaven’s sake.”  
“Ha! No thankyou. I shall be quite comfortable here,” he snorted, closing his eyes.  
She shook her head in amusement, catching Gandalf’s wicked grin. The wizard said nothing, chuckling to himself.  
Thranduil took a deep breath and shifted position slightly.  
Ava rose to her feet. “I need to be alone,” she said softly.  
Gandalf gazed at her for a few moments, then nodded. “I understand, my dear.”  
“I love him more than anything, Mithrandir. But I need to be by myself for a while,” she said.  
“You do not have to explain yourself to me, Ava. I shall not judge you, I understand why you need to do this,” he said gently. “Go in peace.”  
She closed her eyes and bowed her head in respect, before leaving the room.  
Gandalf watched her go with sadness in his heart.  
*****

 

Everything was blurred when Thranduil opened his eyes. Blinking hard, he struggled to bring his surroundings into focus. His head ached, and his throat was parched.  
“Awake at last,” a gravelled voice grumbled. “About time too. You’ve been out of it long enough.”  
He turned his head, and saw Gandalf sitting on the couch across the room, leaning on his staff. The old man looked tired.  
“What happened?” he rasped.  
Legolas rose from where he had been perched on the stone ledge, crossing the room to his father and handing him a cup of water. “Take your time with this,” he advised, lifting his head for him to drink.  
Thranduil sank back onto the pillows, feeling weak and drained. “Where is Ava?”  
“Helping a birthing horse,” his son lied smoothly. He was aware of her reasons for taking time away, but didn’t feel his father was strong enough to know all the details.  
“Go to her,” Thranduil pleaded.  
“I will, soon,” he replied. “Drink some more.”  
Gandalf observed them, his eyes thoughtful. Ava was nowhere near the horse who had successfully delivered her foal the previous day. She had gone into the woods.  
An hour or so later, Legolas left to get a decent sleep, the past few days finally catching up with him. Gandalf stayed behind, ready for the questions he knew the King would have.  
“I know when my son is lying,” Thranduil said, propping himself upright against the pillows. Dark shadows underlined his eyes. “What I do not know is why.”  
“You were poisoned,” the wizard said. “And you were extremely fortunate to come through. For a time, I thought you would not.”  
Thranduil processed this. “In what manner, and by whom?” he asked finally.  
“We think it was the wine,” the reply came. “Ava pieced it together. We had all eaten the same throughout the day, yet you were the only one affected. Ava remembered neither she nor I had taken the wine that was brought up to the book room, but you had. We can only deduce that the poison was in it.”  
Thick eyebrows came down in a frown. “Theodas,” he murmered. “Theodas brought the wine up.”  
Gandalf nodded. “I sensed some tension between you two, but I didn’t think it had escalated to this level of hatred.”  
“Theodas was the guard who came to the door the morning after the wedding,” Thranduil sighed.  
“Ah,” Gandalf nodded, understanding. “Revenge.”  
“Possibly,” he replied. “And neither you nor Ava have been affected?”  
“Not by the poison.” The wizard hesitated. “Ava has taken this very hard, my friend. She has suffered too, not only you.”  
The meaning behind his words didn’t sink in. “I need to see her,” he said. “Where is Legolas?”  
“You will see her when you are strong enough,” Gandalf assured him.  
He was not satisfied.  
“Tell me about what you remember,” the wizard prompted, in an attempt to divert his focus away from Ava for the time being.  
Thranduil stared blankly. “I remember standing over at the window...it was dark...possibly late evening,” he said, frowning as he tried to recall his last memory. “I became dizzy, disorientated. Sharp pain all over...I could not breathe.”  
Gandalf nodded. “What happened next?”  
“I...I do not remember,” he whispered. “Darkness...evil...so much evil. There was an evil presence in the room with me, so strong.”  
“The poison was hallucinogenic,” the older man told him. “What you thought you were seeing and feeling wasn’t really there.”  
“No, it was,” he insisted. “I fought with it...I can remember that. Did I succeed?” He raised his eyes to Gandalf’s.  
“Yes,” he replied, deciding he was not lying because the King had beaten the evil. The evil that had travelled around his body in his blood, draining the life from him, rather than the evil he thought he had been face to face with.  
Thranduil settled back, appearing to accept that. “I want my wife,” he said softly. “I need to be with her.”  
“I do not think right now is the time, my friend,” Gandalf told him, a grave look in his eyes. “Rest for a while, that is my advice.”  
Something clicked in Thranduil’s mind. “She is not with the horse,” he murmered. Gandalf’s eyes told him he had hit the truth. “Where is she, Mithrandir? Why is she not here with me?”  
“She will be with you, and soon. She just needs some time alone,” he answered. “It would not be wise to push things.”  
“What do you speak of?” Panic filled Thranduil’s eyes. “Tell me.”  
“Like I said, she too has suffered through this, and suffered badly. She will return.”  
Thranduil threw the blankets back and rose from the bed, a little wobbly on his feet. Shaking his head to clear it, he crossed over the room and sat heavily on an overstuffed chair, tugging on his boots. “I am going to her,” he said, refusing to look at the other man.  
“My friend...you run the risk of pushing her away,” Gandalf said.  
Thranduil ignored him, tugging his cloak over his shoulders. Standing in front of him, he towered over him, still seated on the couch. “Where is she?”  
*****

 

Ava twirled a blade of grass in her fingers, staring at Orym’s grave. She had sought refuge by the old man’s resting place, seeking peace, seeking answers.  
None had come to her.  
She knew Thranduil had not been in control of himself or his actions, but she had been hurt and needed time to compose herself and bring her scattered thoughts and emotions together.  
Belan, grazing behind her, snorted softly, and she knew instantly she wasn’t alone.  
The sound of hooves thudded softly in the grass, and she heard the quiet thump of someone dismounting.  
She didn’t turn.  
Silence.  
“I thought you would have stayed with me,” Thranduil’s voice said quietly.  
“I stayed until I knew you were going to pull through,” she replied.  
“Why did you leave me?”  
She could hear the pain and confusion in his voice. “It is too soon for you to be up and about,” she said, instead of addressing his query.  
“You did not answer my question.” There was no malice in his tone, just a need for understanding.  
“Do you recall anything?” she asked.  
A heavy silence followed.  
“Some,” he replied finally, and told her what he had told Gandalf. “But he said I beat the evil.”  
“You fought hard,” she said, her tone wistful.  
He tilted his head in confusion.  
“You fought with everything that you had,” she said, finally turning to face him.  
He recoiled in horror, collapsing to his knees in grief. “No...no...no! No, I did not do that...no!”  
Her left eye was surrounded by a dark purple bruise, the flesh underneath torn. Dried blood had settled, dark crimson against her pale skin. Her bottom lip was swollen, also stained with dried blood. A red gash slashed across her neck, cutting across purple marks resembling fingerprints. Her wrists and lower arms were heavily bruised.  
He gasped for breath, shaking his head in denial. “I did not do that to you,” he cried. “Ava...I did not...no...” His hands came up over his mouth, the horror of what he was seeing sinking in, the realisation that this was what his son and Gandalf had not told him, the true reason he had woken without her by his side.  
She focused on the grass she was sitting on. “You did not know what you were doing,” she said. “But if Gandalf had not been passing, you would have killed me.”  
He continued to shake his head, tears of anguish flowing freely.  
“He threw an energy spell as you were leaning down on your sword,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Tears burned her eyes, but she did not shed them. “He saved the life you were determined to take.”  
His shoulders shook as he panted for air.  
A tear overflowed, dripping off her cheek and landing on the grass. “I love you, but right now I am scared of you,” she whispered.  
He let out an anguished cry, a deep howl that sounded like a wounded animal. “I would end my own life before I would hurt you,” he cried. “I do not understand...what...” He trailed off, his grief getting the better of him. He leaned forwards, his head in his hands, deep, heaving sobs tearing up through his body.  
Ava’s tears increased. She got up from the grass, padding silently over to him. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His arms went around her waist, crushing her against him. Her hands caressed the back of his head as she held him against her, silently asking for the strength they would both need to get past this.  
“What have I done to you?” he cried. “What have I done?”  
She didn’t know how to answer, so she stayed quiet, trying to calm him.  
“Gandalf worked out what poison was used,” she told him after a long time. “He sent Legolas out for specific plants, mixed everything together and made you drink it. Then he stayed with you working his magic, until we knew that you were going to live.”  
He took a deep, shuddering breath, still holding her tightly to him.  
“We think the poison came from the wine,” she said, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “But I do not know the guard who brought it up.”  
“I do,” he said, pulling back to look up at her. “I do, and he will die a painful death for what he has done.” His eyes were red and bloodshot, tears still flowing freely down his beautiful face.  
She gazed down into his eyes, feeling the pain, the anguish, and the grief that he was feeling. Lowering her head, she slowly and tenderly kissed his tears. “Do not cry, my love,” she whispered.  
The tears still fell. “I do not know what I can do to make this better,” he cried, heartbroken.  
She shook her head. “There is nothing.”  
“Do not leave me, _Nin mel _, please do not leave me,” he pleaded. “I will do _anything _.”____  
“I am not going to leave,” she said. “I just had to put a little space between us, until I sorted out in my head what had happened and how to cope with it, that is all. I am not going anywhere.”  
“Where does this leave us, my love?” he asked, his voice a shaky whisper. His entire body trembled in her arms. “Tell me what you want me to do.”  
“Forgive yourself,” she replied softly. “You had no control, and there was nothing you could do. Be strong with me, and we will get through this together.”  
Heartbroken ice blue eyes held hers, a fresh wave of tears cascading down his cheeks every time he blinked. “I am going to lose you,” he whispered.  
She shook her head. “No, my love. You will not lose me. We just need to clear our minds and spend some time together, for us both to heal. To heal ourselves and each other.”  
He pressed his cheek to hers, still crying. “I have treated you so badly in recent times. How can we go on?”  
“We can go on because we made a vow of love and of marriage to each other, and because we love each other,” she replied. She closed her eyes and cherished the feel of his warm skin against hers. “You cannot blame yourself for what happened, Thranduil. You were _poisoned _– you almost died. There was nothing you could have done.”__  
He turned his face to kiss her cheek, his tears moistening her skin. “I should have been stronger,” he whispered. “I am the King, I am supposed to be strong. Yet it failed me when I needed it most.”  
“Your strength is needed most in battle, that is where it is most important,” she said. “What happened has nothing to do with your strength, my love. What you were given should have killed you, it was intended to kill you. Gandalf said that few people survive when given that poison.”  
“I tried to kill you,” he said, pulling back and framing her face with both hands. “The love of my life, my dreams, my future...I held a sword to your throat and tried to kill you.” A crease appeared in between his eyebrows, as the reality of his actions hit home, and hard. A shudder tore through him, and he shook his head slowly. “I tried to kill you,” he repeated, his whisper broken in anguish. Panic flared in his eyes.  
“Stop,” she said, placing a finger on his lips. “Stop right there. You cannot and will not go through the rest of your life going over and over this, do you understand me? We have to go through what happened, how you felt, how I felt, then put it behind us and move on. I will help you, and you will have to help me, alright?” She sensed that for once in his life, the ruler of the kingdom needed someone to tell him what to do, to be strong for him. “I cannot do this alone, Thranduil – I need you to help me.”  
His blue eyes held nothing but grief. “I have to set you free,” he whispered. “I have no choice...”  
She pulled back, fear piercing her heart. “What do you mean, set me free? What are you talking about?”  
“If I am to keep you alive, I have to let you go,” was his heartbroken reply. His tears continued to flow, but he paid them no attention. “I bring you nothing but sadness and danger.”  
She shook her head, releasing her hold on him. “I cannot believe you are saying this,” she gasped. “How can you even think this?? You want to end a marriage that has not even begun?”  
“You would be better without me,” he said brokenly.  
She stared at him, completely shocked. “Fine,” she snapped, breaking out of her trance-like state and getting to her feet. “If that is what you want, then so be it. I will go, and the trolls will have a field day when they find me.” She spun on her heel and walked away from him.  
“No!” he roared, falling forward and bracing his hands on the grass. “No! I...” He trailed off, holding his head. “I do not know what to do...”  
She stopped, whirling round to face him. The sight of him broken before her tore her heart into a million pieces. “You must make a choice,” she said, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. “We work together and get through this, or you send me away. If that is what you want, then fine. I will go.”  
“No! That is not what I want!” he cried, distraught. “Ava, please do not go...I need you...I cannot do this...”  
“What do you want from me?” she demanded, her tears flowing fast.  
“I want things to go back they way they were!” he panted. “I want this whole horrid thing to have never happened!”  
She went back to him and stood before him.  
Ice blue eyes gazed up at her as he remained kneeling on the grass.  
“We cannot undo what has been done,” she said quietly. “But we can resolve it, and move forwards. I cannot do that if you are determined to push me away, all because of something we had no control over. I need you to be strong, decide what you want, and see it through.”  
“I want you,” he pleaded. “I never want to be without you.”  
“You have me,” she whispered as she touched his cheek. “You always have had. But right now I need for you to be my King, I need you to be my husband, I need you to be my lover. I need for you to be strong, to stand with me and face the demons that this has left in your heart. I know you have the strength to do that, you just need to find it.”  
“What if I cannot find it?” he asked in a voice just barely above a whisper.  
“Then I will have enough strength for both of us,” she replied.  
He swallowed, visibly struggling to hold himself together. Ava had never seen such a strong, confident man reduced to broken pieces, and knew she would need to rely on every source available to her to pull him through and help him piece himself back to the ruler he was.  
“I never want you to be afraid of me,” he whispered. “Never.”  
She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “That will pass, my love. It is just an after-effect of what has happened. But it will go, I promise you. It will go.”  
Seconds ticked past slowly.  
“I need my husband,” she said quietly, holding her hands out to him.  
His gaze dropped to them, before lifting to meet hers again. Very slowly, he placed his hands in hers, and rose to his feet as she pulled. Towering over her, he looked so fragile and lost, confused and looking for guidance.  
She stood up on her toes, gently touching her lips to his cheek. “I love you,” she murmered. He turned his head as his mouth sought hers, the warm softness of his trembling lips melting her weary heart.  
He tucked his head down onto her shoulder as his arms went around her, holding her as though she was fragile crystal that might break. She slid her arms up around his neck, closing her eyes as she knew they had cleared the main obstacle in front of them.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

 

Two days passed.  
Ava remained in the bedroom she shared with Thranduil, keeping away from the palace staff until her injuries healed enough that nobody would ask questions or jump to illogical conclusions. She only left the sanctuary of seclusion under the cover of darkness, when she would wander along to read or get something from the kitchen. Legolas dropped by frequently, as did Gandalf.  
Thranduil never left her side.  
But he did not speak, or touch her.  
By the third morning, she was getting impatient.  
“Is he eating properly?” Gandalf queried, sucking on his pipe.  
Thranduil had left her for the first time, with the promise he would return as soon as he had checked on the horse who had given birth.  
The pair sat out on the stone wall overlooking the woods, the sunlight creating an array of colours.  
“Not really,” she replied. “He is picking at his meals, and leaving most of it. He is not talking, and it is like living with a stranger. He is dropping into a deep depression, Mithrandir. I need to pull him out of it somehow.”  
“He is living with a deep shame,” Gandalf told her. “His pride and sense of justice is severely wounded. Even though he knows in his heart he is not to blame, he is hurting badly. He will recover, he will just need time and tender loving care.”  
She crossed one knee over the other. “I have excess amounts of both,” she said. “But he has put that wall of ice back up again. I do not think he knows just how much hard work and effort is needed to break through it.”  
“He is trying to protect himself while he comes to terms with what he did,” the wizard replied. “That guard has a lot to answer for.”  
She nodded. “As far as I know he is imprisoned in the dungeons,” she said, glancing at her companion. “How long Thranduil will keep him there is anyone’s guess. I do not think he has given him any thought at all.”  
“He has more pressing issues to contend with,” Gandalf said. “Just be patient with him my dear, he is a strong man with a strong sense of self-worth, and that belief has been shattered around him of late.”  
“With no need, and no purpose,” she murmered, lost in the scenery before her. “Who knows? Maybe these things are sent to test us in some way or another. But something has to give, somehow. He cannot punish himself endlessly over this.”  
“I understand,” he told her. “The King I know is driven by pride and control. And right now he has neither of those.”  
She considered his logic. “Maybe I need to find a way to let him regain that control,” she said softly, almost to herself. “Maybe it is time I did not lead him by the hand and tell him what to do. Perhaps that time has passed, and he needs to regain his leadership once more.”  
“Wise words,” Gandalf agreed, then lapsed into silence.  
Ava fell silent too, her mind working overtime.  
*****

 

Sex.  
Everything came down to sex.  
And Thranduil had a high sex drive, which could work to her advantage.  
She sorely missed his touch, and knew that he was scared to touch her, for whatever reasons lurked deep in his subconscious mind.  
Rolling over in the semi-darkness, she pressed herself against his warm back, her nipples grazing the silky softness of his skin.  
She knew he was not asleep. He took a deep breath, but said nothing, and didn’t move.  
A smile graced her lips. This was something she would enjoy doing.  
Her leg pressed in between his thighs, seeking heat.  
He took another deep breath.  
After a few minutes had passed, she slid her arm under his and around his body, letting her hand drop over his lower abdomen. The muscles there quivered slightly at the feather-like touch.  
Her fingers slowly and lightly traced patterns on his skin. She inhaled deeply, her face pressed against his long hair.  
Still he remained silent, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt he was awake. He had slept very little in the last few days, and tonight was no exception.  
She pressed a whisper of a kiss against his bare shoulder, and felt his body go rigid. She followed it with another one, then a third one.  
He slowly turned his head, giving her a view of his profile. “Ava,” he said, quietly.  
“Hmm?” she murmered, still touching butterfly kisses to his shoulder and back. “What it is, my love?”  
He sighed, but didn’t reply.  
Her hand continued to trace invisible patterns on his stomach, gradually moving lower, under her fingers closed around warm, hard flesh.  
He gasped.  
She tightened her grip, caressing the velvet steel in a slow, seducing motion.  
His chest expanded as he took another deep breath. She knew he was trying to resist her, but she wasn’t giving him the option.  
Her knee lifted, pushing against the heat in between his open thighs. His arm slid backwards, his hand holding her hip. A smile of satisfaction flitted across her face; she was making progress. Her hips gently rocked forwards, pushing against the curve of his rear.  
He rolled over and lifted himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching hers in the flickering candlelight. She met his gaze, watching the range of emotions cross his face. Lifting her head up, she pressed her open mouth to his, murmering softly.  
He stiffened, before eventually responding hesitantly. His mouth caressed hers in the slightest touch, such a gentle pressure.  
She traced her tongue along his lower lip, sucking it lightly, her teeth grazing the soft, plump flesh. “I need you,” she whispered.  
The pressure of his kiss deepened slightly as he lifted his hand from her hip and caressed her cheek. She responded, lifting her leg up and wrapping it over his thigh and lifting her hips up towards his.  
Opening her mouth wider, she teased his tongue with hers, coaxing him into an erotic duel which he replied to. A deep groan rumbled through his chest as his blood turned to fuel, igniting a fire within his soul. His hands swept up and down her body, and she knew instantly she had won the battle. Her thighs parted wider, allowing him to settle in between, a cry of passion tearing itself from her as he pushed into her. Her hands tangled in his hair as she devoured his mouth, her hips moving in perfect unison with his.  
He tore his mouth from hers, gasping for breath, his body in flames as desire overrode everything else. She took advantage and kissed her way along his jaw and down his neck, sinking her teeth into his flesh and sucking hard. His entire body jerked, and he moved faster. His thrusts went hard and deep, which she accepted eagerly, her legs crossing over his back and deepening the angle.  
“Come for me, my love,” she whispered as her own orgasm lurked just out of reach. “Let me feel everything.”  
He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to hold out for her pleasure, but the movements she was making drove him closer and closer to the edge of sanity. She wriggled her hips beneath his, urging him on, pulling him towards the pinnacle of bliss. Dropping his head onto her shoulder, his fists gripped the pillow, the muscles across his lower back contracting.  
He exploded with a loud moan at the same time as she climaxed, euphoria sweeping over the two of them. Collapsing on top of her, he panted hard, before rolling to one side.  
She went over too, with him still buried deep inside her. A loving smile tilted her mouth up as she drew her fingertip along his lower lip. “I love you,” she whispered.  
Candlelight flickered in her eyes as he gazed at her. “I love you so much more, _Nin mel _,” he replied, lost in the sparkling depths.__  
Her smile widened to a grin. “I missed you.”  
Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath. “I had my own things to sort out,” he told her.  
“I know,” she said. “But it is good to have you back.”  
She tenderly kissed him, before settling against his chest and drifting off into a peaceful sleep.  
Her warrior was home again.  
*****

____

 

Ava eventually left the solitude of their room after a few days, her injuries almost non-existent. Gandalf had cast a little spell and they had practically vanished overnight, so she felt confident no-one would ask any awkward questions.  
Thranduil seemed to be almost back to his old self, although she occasionally caught him gazing at her with a hurt look, almost a look of guilt or shame, possibly both. Each time she did, all she had to do was lift an eyebrow, and he either smiled at her, or looked away.  
Time would settle him.  
“Have you seen my other half?” she asked Gandalf, finding him in a heated game of chess with one of the servants.  
“I saw him a short time ago,” he replied, cursing in an unknown language at the chess piece he was considering moving. He glanced up at her. “I’m not sure where he was going though, I’m afraid.”  
“Hmm.” If he was leaving the palace, she was sure he would have told her, with them only being apart from each other for a few minutes at a time over the last week. “He will turn up,” she said decidedly.  
“Can we interest you in participating?” Gandalf asked, indicating the board.  
She snorted. “Sorry – no. I do not have the patience for chess,” she replied. “The board would be liable to end up outside, along with a broken window.”  
The wizard laughed, and resumed his game.  
She padded through the palace, peering into various halls and rooms where she thought he might be, but came up empty-handed. Eventually she crossed the hallway and descended the stone steps which led down to the dungeons.  
Partway down, she heard a blood-curdling scream which went on forever, followed by an angry roar. She froze, wondering what she had just heard. Another scream met her ears, followed by another.  
The angry roar bellowed again, and she knew it was Thranduil.  
Cursing to herself, she ran down the remainder of the steps and hurtled across the raised pathway.  
More screams, more roars of anger.  
She tumbled into the outstretched arms of one of the guards.  
“You cannot go in there, m’lady,” he told her as she struggled against him.  
“Get your damned hands off me!” she yelled, fighting like a demon. “Let me go!”  
The guard remained firm, only just managing to contain her as she wriggled and kicked for freedom.  
A final scream of agony screeched through the cavernous area, echoing off the surroundings, followed by a bellow of rage that turned her blood cold. The scream ended abruptly.  
She stilled in her effort to break free, then went crazy trying to escape the guard’s steel-like hold on her.  
Thranduil walked out of the dungeon, his sword dripping blood on the floor. He glared at her and the guard.  
“Take your hands off my wife, lest you suffer the same fate,” he growled, slowly re-sheathing his weapon.  
The guard dropped her like she was toxic, hurriedly stepping back and muttering profuse apologies.  
Thranduil’s cold stare met her.  
“What did you do?” she asked, stepping towards him. Blood had sprayed over his clothing, and was smudged on his cheek. “Are you hurt?”  
He smirked. “No.”  
She walked around him, hurrying into the dungeon, where she came to an abrupt halt.  
The guard who had taken the poisoned wine to them lay on the floor. Both his hands had been cut off, and he was minus his head. Blood was everywhere, pooling in the indentations of the uneven stone floor. His torso and legs were covered in stab wounds, marks where a sword had slashed repeatedly in a fit of rage.  
Pursing her mouth, she turned her back on the horror, to see Thranduil watching her from the entrance.  
“Did you have to be quite as brutal?” she asked.  
“He deserved a lot more,” he replied.  
She looked at him with a look of reproach. “You tortured him,” she observed.  
He didn’t reply, just cast a cold glance at the body parts strewn across the floor. He held his hand out. “This is no place for you,” he said eventually, holding his hand out.  
She stepped over a pool of blood and crossed over to him, taking his hand. “Is this what heated, passionate sex does to you?” she remarked, a touch of humour in her question. She understood his anger, and knew he would take his revenge, but hadn’t known he would be quite as harsh with his punishment.  
Ice blue eyes stared into hers. “No. Someone hurting my wife and making her suffer is what does this,” he replied. His eyes softened. “I have told you before – I will die for you. And if I do not, then those who go against you will.”  
She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Are you alright?”  
“Yes. Why would I not be?”  
She smiled. “I am just asking.”  
He led her from the cold emptiness of the dungeon. “Clean that up and remove it,” he ordered the petrified guard who stood shaking like a leaf. “I wish you would not venture down here,” he said to her as he guided her along the pathway. “It is dangerous and uneven.”  
She gripped his hand, being careful where she placed her bare feet as she followed him. He glanced back at her. “It sounded like half an army was being slaughtered,” she said. “I had to come down.”  
He hmmph’d to himself, but didn’t answer. They climbed to the upper level, where Legolas was coming out of one of the halls.  
“Ah...Legolas,” Thranduil said. “You will be pleased to know the problem of Theodas no longer exists.”  
“I heard you were going to take care of him,” his son replied. He frowned, as he noted the blood on his father’s clothing. “By the looks of things, you did not spare him.”  
Ava rolled her eyes behind his back.  
Thranduil tightened his grip on her hand, throwing a hard look over his shoulder, and she could have sworn he knew what she had just done.  
“No, I did not,” he said. “Maybe others who have an inclination to try his efforts in destroying me and what is mine, will think twice before taking on such foolish actions.”  
“Good to have you back,” Legolas muttered, making Ava grin.  
Thranduil ignored his remark. “Do you wish to see the young horse?” he asked, turning his attention to her. “You have not been to see her as yet.”  
“I would love to,” she replied, her face lighting up. “Will you come with me?”  
“Of course,” he said.  
“Have fun,” Legolas quipped as they went past him, shaking his head and grinning at Ava. His father merely glared at him, and chose not to respond.  
They went out across the courtyard, where Nardual was exiting the stable.  
“My Lord, m’lady,” he greeted them.  
“How are mother and baby?” Ava asked, excited to see the little one.  
Her friend grinned. “You are going to love the youngster,” he told her, holding the door open for them. “She is such a sweet little thing.”  
“Thankyou,” she said, stepping forwards as Thranduil held a hand at her back and ushered her before him.  
Nardual vanished, and her husband followed her inside.  
“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “What a little angel!”  
He smiled at her enthusiasm, folding his arms and watching her.  
She went closer, going down on her knees and extending her hands. The young foal lifted her head and sniffed the air, testing to see if she was friend or foe. Deciding she was a friend, she trotted over on slightly shaky legs, immediately nuzzling her hands then her shoulder. Ava wrapped her arms around the baby’s neck, giggling in delight.  
Thranduil shook his head. “Anything with hooves, paws, or feathers,” he muttered in amusement.  
“Huh?” She twisted round to look at him. “Look at this sweetheart, isn’t she gorgeous?”  
“She has not been given a name yet,” he said. “You should pick one for her.”  
Blue eyes sparkled. “Oh...let me think,” she murmered, stroking the foal’s mane. “Mithroch...I like the sound of that.”  
He smiled in approval. “You are learning fast, _Nin mel _,” he observed. “Mithroch means grey horse, so it is very suitable for her.”__  
“She is adorable,” she said, the affection for the animal so clear in her voice, it brought a small lump to his throat.  
“She is yours,” he said softly.  
Amazed eyes turned back to him. “What?”  
He shrugged, stepping forwards and extending his hand to the little one. “She is yours. As is Belan.”  
Ava frowned in confusion. “Belan is not mine,” she said.  
“Yes, she is. Nobody has ridden her since you came here, and before then it was only I who rode her. She is yours, as well as Mithroch. My gift to you.”  
Her hands dropped from the youngster as she stood, staring at him in astonishment. “Are you serious?” she gasped.  
“Yes.”  
She squealed suddenly, giving him a fright, and jumped into his arms, pressing excited kisses on his face and neck. “Oh my god! Thankyou, thankyou so much!”  
He laughed at her enthusiasm, tightening his arms around her as she bounced and jumped around, almost pulling him off-balance. “I thought it stood to reason that Belan belonged to you,” he said. “She responds to you, she rides well with you, and she will always keep you safe. It makes sense that you belong with each other.”  
She stilled suddenly, gazing at him. “I have no gift to give you,” she said.  
He shook his head, amused at her child-like demeanour. “I need no gift,” he said softly. “I have you.”


	30. Chapter 30

Ava chopped the strawberries into halves, then halves again, lifting them and placing them in a large wooden bowl. She tossed whole raspberries in, along with slices of apples. Drumming her fingers on the worktop, she pursed her mouth as she wondered what else to add to the fruit salad. 

“Plums,” a deep voice said behind her.

She turned, to see Thranduil lounging in the doorway, a lazy smile on his face. “Good idea,” she said, pointing the knife at him in rhythm with the syllables. “Faron! Do we have fresh plums?”

“One moment, m’lady,” the cook replied, disappearing into his store.

“Why is it I always find you down here?” her husband asked, slowly descending the two steps that brought him down onto the floor. Ice blue eyes held a touch of amusement.

“I get bored easily,” she replied, setting the knife down and wiping her hands on the skirts of her dress. “I like to be doing things.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to his body. “You are the Queen, not a kitchen servant,” he told her.

“Yes, I am aware,” she replied, interlocking her fingers at the back of his neck. “But I also need to be kept busy. I was friends with Faron long before I had a status.”

His eyebrows came down in a frown. “I can see I will have to find more suitable things for you to do,” he decided.

“Hmm...any ideas?” she murmered, standing up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his. 

“I have some-oops, sorry my Lord, m’lady,” Faron stuttered, turning beetroot red.

She smiled, reluctantly pulling away. “Do not fret, my friend,” she said, turning to him. “The King likes to come down here and distract me from time to time.”

“Quite rightly so, if I may say so,” the cook hurriedly agreed, drawing a glare from her.

“Do not encourage him,” she said. “How many plums do we have?”

Thranduil remained where he was, folding his arms as he watched his wife move around the kitchen workspace.

“These are not fresh,” she said, picking one up and gently squeezing it. 

“I shall throw them away at once,” Faron said.

“No, give them to the pigs,” she instructed him. “They still have some good in them, but are not fresh enough to feed our guests.”

The cook shuffled past Thranduil, eager to escape his overpowering presence.

Ava leaned back against the worktop, folding her arms like he had done, and stared at him.

One eyebrow lifted in silent question, and she laughed.

“Every time you appear, he turns into a nervous wreck,” she laughed. “You intimidate him.”

He shrugged. “I intimidate a lot of people,” he replied. 

His cocky air swept over her, re-igniting senses that should have been fast asleep after the long night they had spent together.

“What are you doing down here anyway, apart from making me think dirty, perverted thoughts?” she asked, turning away and reaching for a clean knife.

“I merely wanted to see how you are,” he answered. “I am concerned you might be over-tired.”

She turned her head so he had a glimpse of her profile. “Why? Because some insatiable male kept me awake the whole night?” she teased.

He stepped closer to her, stopping as his chest touched her back. “Tell me his name, and I will see that he is punished,” he murmered, pressing the softest of kisses just below her ear. “It is a crime to keep the Queen from her rest.”

His seductive whisper awakened the butterflies in her stomach. “I do not know if you know of him,” she replied. “Very tall, very handsome...with stamina that could last for days.” 

He grinned. “Weeks,” he corrected her. “Months.”

She laughed as he spun her round to face him, meeting his kiss with a loving smile. “It should be unlawful to feel this good,” she murmered against his mouth. “It possibly is unlawful.”

“Then that is a benefit of marrying the King,” he replied, his lips caressing her neck. “I can bend and break the rules as I see fit.”

Faron re-appeared, muttered a stuttering apology and vanished promptly.

Ava burst out laughing, pushing at Thranduil’s shoulders. “We cannot keep doing this down here,” she said. “We are giving that poor man a complex.”

“He needs a wife,” he growled softly, refusing to budge. His hands roamed across her lower back as he continued to kiss her neck, coming to rest on the swell of her buttocks and giving them a squeeze.

“You keep this going, and we will end up on this worktop,” she gasped, tangling her fingers in his long hair. “You do not play fair, my love. I have work to do.”

“So do I,” he whispered. His soft lips caressed the outer shell of her ear, making her shiver with desire. “Actually, I came down to ask if you wish to accompany myself and Mithrandir,” he said, his voice clearer as he pulled back to look at her. “He wishes to go further into the woods.”

She grimaced. “I would love to,” she said. “But it would not be fair to leave Faron with all this.” She indicated the array of partly prepared food filling the workspace. “Bard and his people will be here by nightfall.”

“Faron!” Thranduil roared.

The cook hurriedly presented himself.

“I assume you are capable of handling everything down here?” he demanded. “I wish to take my wife out for the afternoon.”

“Of course, my Lord,” he replied hastily. “Please do enjoy yourself. I will continue with this.”

Ava touched his arm in a friendly gesture as he passed close by. “Thankyou,” she said. “I am sorry to leave you with all this.”

“Nonsense, m’lady,” he smiled. “Please go. May you enjoy yourselves.”

Thranduil led her by the hand up to ground level, the kitchens having been dug out and built underground. 

“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly, yanking him to a stop. She lifted the hand she held in hers, inspecting it. “Where is the ring you always wore?” She traced her thumb along the length of his index finger.

He hesitated a split second. “I took it off,” he replied. “It was too tight.”

She frowned, a deep frown which told him straight away she wasn’t buying it. “Do not lie to me,” she said. “I know when you are telling untruths. I know you well enough by now.”

“It was,” he insisted, turning to walk with her again.

She remained where she was, still holding his hand. “Thranduil,” she said quietly.

He sighed. “I removed it. That is the answer.”

Her frown turned into a glare.

He tipped his head back and looked up towards the roof of the cavernous area, almost as if he was asking for help. Shaking his head, he pulled her over to sit on one of the many couches scattered throughout the palace.

“I have spent a lot of time searching within myself for answers,” he said quietly, looking down at their joined hands instead of at her. “I felt that removing it was what I should do.”

“Why?”

He lightly traced his thumb across the top of her cheekbone, just below her left eye, and she knew what he was thinking.

Crossing one knee over the other, she shook her head slightly. “What other inventive ideas have you come up with? Are you going to stop eating and drinking for the rest of your life? Are you going to discard your sword?”

His eyes met hers.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she said, although her tone held no malice, just a gentle push in the direction of reality. “I know why you have taken the ring off, I am not retarded.”

“I did not say you were,” he said immediately.

“Then put it back on,” she said quietly. “Please.”

He looked away from her for a few seconds, chewing his bottom lip. “I do not wish to remember what it symbolises,” he said after a while.

She leaned towards him and rested her head on his shoulder. “How long have you worn it?” she asked.

“Centuries,” he replied. “Too many to remember the exact number.”

“Then please put it back on,” she said. “Do not connect it to bad memories, remember the good things. I have told you my love, you cannot hold on to what happened. You must let it go.”

She lifted her head, and haunted blue eyes met hers.

“I am trying to, _Nin mel _,” he told her. “But...” He trailed off.__

____

____

“But you and only you are stopping yourself from letting it go,” she told him. “If anyone should feel anything, it is me, yet I do not. If I can let it go, then so should you. Holding on to something bad will only drag you down as a person, prevent your spirit from flying free as it should.”

He chewed the inside of his lip as he thought about what she was saying. “You do not feel the shame that I do,” he admitted after a long, tense silence.

“You have no reason to feel shame,” she responded. “How can you hold yourself responsible, when the hallucinogenic was powerful enough to change your perception the way it did, when the poison was strong enough to kill you? If it had not been for Gandalf, you would not be here. Neither would I,” she added, almost to herself. “Maybe he was supposed to extend his stay for a reason.”

“That thought crossed my mind too,” he said.

She looked back at him, still holding his right hand. “So put the ring back on. For me.”

Heaving a deep sigh, he shrugged. “Alright. If that is what pleases you, then I shall put it back on. Happy?”

She leaned over, kissing his mouth with a tender touch. “Yes. Let’s go; our guest will wonder what sort of debauchery you are getting me into, you have been gone for so long.”

*****

 

 

“I cannot say I fully agree, nor disagree, my friend,” Gandalf muttered, picking his way over the uneven path. “There is still much to learn concerning the ability to see the future. Too many opposing references are noted throughout history, and we cannot jump to misled conclusions.”

Ava held onto Thranduil’s waist as he stepped before her, glad she had chosen to change into trousers before leaving the palace. “When did all this begin?” she asked. The velvet of his cloak was soft against the palms of her hands, the solid muscle underneath strong and reassuring.

“Thousands of years ago,” her husband replied. “Many have spoken of it, but there was no clue as to when it would come to fruition.”

She lifted a low-hanging branch out of her way as she placed her feet where his had gone. “I suppose it’s asinine, but I did wonder.”

“There have been many, many theories and predictions over the centuries,” Gandalf said, stopping and leaning on his staff. “Many of them have proven to be fruitless, but many have come true. Like yours. Tell me - are you still going into a meditational state?”

“Not as of late,” she replied. She attempted to hoist herself up onto a toppled tree trunk to rest, and Thranduil gently lifted her up onto it as she failed, offering her a gentle smile. “I have had other things to contend with recently, and have not put in as much time as I should have.”

The wizard snorted softly.

Ava blushed, and Thranduil smirked, but remained silent.

“Tell me what practice you used,” Gandalf prompted her.

She told him how she had learned to slow her heartbeat down, making her more susceptible to seeing and experiencing things.

“Interesting,” he murmered, chewing on the end of his ever-present pipe. “Yet unless Thranduil touches you, you cannot do it at will. Hmm.”

“I have seen things when alone,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but the visions come clearer and faster when you are together,” he said. “I wonder if your husband does not share a touch of the same gift.”

Thranduil’s eyebrows rose. “I possess the usual elf magic,” he replied. “And I can infuse myself into someone’s mind, hear and feel their thoughts if need be. I would not say I hold anything overly special.”

“Do not discount yourself,” Gandalf said decidedly. “I have an inkling that Ava’s gift prospers in your presence; perhaps she needs you to complete the connection.”

Deep blue eyes met ice blue ones, as they both contemplated his words.

“You mean our union has more than one meaning,” she said.

He shrugged. “Anything is possible, my dear. I am surprised neither of you have thought of this before. I can only imagine the powers your children will have.”

Ava blinked and looked away into the trees, Giron’s words coming back to haunt her. 

" _His heritage and magic, his power, mixed with your genetics? How strong would the Sindar elves become? _”__

____

____

“ _Why do you think he has gone to so much trouble? For the strength and leadership in the child that he would impregnate you with! _”__

____

____

“ _You are not wanted or desired for who you are, you are wanted for what you are. The only difference here is that if you give birth to a child from him, he will have all the power he could ever want _.”__

____

____

Thranduil watched her. He could read her body language, the hunch of her shoulders, the way she had averted her gaze, and knew exactly what was running through her mind. “ _Nin mel _,” he said softly.__

____

____

She looked back at him.

He shook his head slowly. “Do not.”

Taking a deep breath, she pursed her mouth. “I was not.”

He smiled a sad smile. “Yes, you were.”

“Your uncle had one purpose in life, and that was to gain from you,” Gandalf interjected. “Once that failed, he set out to destroy you. Do not let his ghost finish the task he failed to complete.”

Wondering if he too could track in on her thoughts, she swung back down to the grass. “He is dead and gone, which is the best place for him,” she said, a hint of sharpness to her words. “He has no control over me or my feelings anymore.”

Thranduil gave Gandalf a look which clearly said _I shall believe that when I see it _. The wizard hid a grin behind his bushy whiskers.__

____

____

Before anyone had the chance to speak further, a messenger bounded through the trees, coming to a stop before them.

“My Lord, m’lady,” he said. “I am here to inform you your guests have arrived.”

“Good,” Thranduil replied. “Ensure they are comfortable and have been given food. We will return shortly.”

“Very good, my Lord,” the messenger said, and turned back the way he had come.

“I suppose we should head back,” Gandalf said. “Although one day I really do hope to see this elusive white stag you keep hidden here.”

Thranduil laughed, taking Ava’s hand firmly in his own. “I do not keep him hidden, Mithrandir. He chooses when to make his presence known, as do all the other animals who inhabit these woods.”

“I am surprised Radagast has not moved himself closer,” the wizard commented. “I have never seen as many rabbits native to one area.”

“Is he still surrounded by his rabbits?” Ava asked.

“Do the seasons still change?” came the reply, making her smile.

They chatted small talk as they made their way back, enjoying being in one another’s company. Before long, they were entering the courtyard, where the usual chaos and activity had been upped a notch due to the arrival of their guests.

“King Thranduil, Queen Ava,” Bard greeted them, a wide smile appearing as he strode out of the stables.

“Oh my, just Ava, please,” she corrected him, stepping into his embrace. “We have been through too much together for formal titles.”

“Nevertheless m’lady, it is your title,” he replied, turning to shake Thranduil’s hand.

“Welcome, my friend,” the King said. “I trust you had a safe, uneventful journey?”

“Yes, we did,” Bard replied, turning to Gandalf. “It is good to see you again, Mithrandir,” he said warmly, shaking his hand.

“Likewise,” he returned. “How is life with your good people these days?”

“Improving every day,” the other man replied. “Lake Town is gradually coming back into shape, and most of it is habitable now.”

“Good,” Ava said. “I am so hungry...shall we freshen up and have our meal?”

“I am famished too, I must admit,” Gandalf agreed. “It must be the clean forest air.”

“That, and the good company,” she quipped with a grin. “Come. I will show you your quarters,” she added to Bard. Glancing back at Thranduil, she arranged to meet him when it was time to eat, then led their guest inside the palace.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

 

 

Ava was reminded of her recent wedding.

The huge hall was crowded with elves and humans alike, and the sounds of merriment filled the air. Laughter echoed around, people danced, off-key singing bounced from one end of the hall to the other, and alcohol flowed freely.

“I think you might be a little too generous with the wine,” she whispered, leaning close to Thranduil’s ear so he could hear her.

He grinned. “Let them enjoy themselves,” he replied, taking a sip of his own wine. “They will not remember most of it come sunrise. Besides...they do not come often.” His hand found hers beneath the table, his fingers sliding through hers and squeezing gently.

“That is true,” she said. “I do hope Gandalf is careful this time.”

The wizard was seated two chairs from her, his elbows leaning on the table, staring woefully into his wine.

Bard, seated between him and Ava, shook his head as he tucked into his food. “The old man never could hold his drink,” he commented.

“I may be old my friend, but I am wise,” Gandalf slurred, adding a soft _sh _sound to the end of his word.__

____

____

Ava laughed heartily. “Ooops, too late,” she said. She reluctantly released Thranduil’s hand and rose to her feet. “Excuse me.” Dropping a kiss on his mouth, she whispered that she would return within a few moments.

He nodded, watching her go.

“I am sorry I could not attend the wedding,” Bard said. 

He nodded. “I understand. Your harvest needs are more important.”

“If we are to survive the winter, then unfortunately yes. I did have you both in my thoughts though.”

Thranduil smiled. “I know. The important thing is that your harvest is over, and you are here. That is what matters to Ava and myself.”

“Have you managed to avert the oncoming war?” Bard asked, nodding his thanks to the servant who refilled his wine.

Thranduil frowned. “No, not as yet,” he replied. “They seem more stubborn than ever, and are determined to go ahead with this. It is madness – if only they would sit down and discuss their issues.”

Bard cocked an eyebrow. “I know a certain King who went to war over gems,” he pointed out.

“The heirlooms of my people,” Thranduil replied. “Then again, we were needed there eventually.”

“Yes,” the other man said. “I hear the dwarves are very settled in the mountain, although we see very little of them. Our traders have most of the contact with them, if anything.”

“They have not altered in nature. Dain attended the wedding.”

Bard smiled. “Times do change,” he commented. “There was a time you two would never have been within a hundred miles of one another without avenging to kill each other.”

“The bad blood has settled,” Thranduil remarked. “And Ava is on good terms with the cantankerous dwarf.”

“Who is cantankerous?” she asked, reappearing at his side.

“The swine who insists on making fun of me,” he answered, lifting her hand and kissing it. “That foul-tempered dwarf you seem to have bonded with.”

She laughed, lowering herself back onto her seat at his side. “Dain is not a bad person,” she said. “He is very loyal to his own, and very protective. Not unlike yourself, when I think about it.”

Bard snorted into his goblet as Thranduil’s eyebrows rose in shock.

“You compare me to that rough degenerate?” he demanded.

Laughter bubbled up inside her and overflowed. “No, if you had listened to what I had said, I compared your loyalty, not your characters. Clean your ears out.”

He hmmph’d, much to Bard’s hilarity.

“You are just mad because he called you a princess,” she said, taking his wine from him and taking a mouthful. “All is fair in love and war, so they say.”

“They say a lot,” he huffed. “That does not mean it is true.”

His hand closed over hers as she handed the goblet back to him.

Within a split second, she was out of the giant hall, out of the palace. In front of her and below her were trees, and as she turned around, she found she was surrounded by them for miles. Turning back round, she gazed down a steep valley, and realised she was looking at Lake Town. 

She was looking at carnage.

Destruction.

Devastation.

Thousands of orcs were descending on the town, smashing buildings and slaughtering the inhabitants. Screams of terror met her ears, the smell of blood so strong in her nose. The skies above her were heavy with dark, thunderous clouds, the air ice cold. Sections of the town flattened before her eyes as the evil beasts crashed their way through, scores of dead in their wake.

“Ava?”

Thranduil’s soft voice brought her back to reality, and she blinked as she saw him staring at her, his hand still over hers as she held the wine.

He knew the instant she had disconnected from where they were; he had seen her eyes change. He knew she was seeing something.

“I do not feel too good,” she said, shaking her head. “Perhaps I have had too much wine.”

“Shall we go for a breath of fresh air outside?” he suggested.

She nodded gratefully, her eyes conveying thanks for suggesting an escape.

“We shall return in a short while,” he told Bard, not bothering to inform Gandalf, who had his head on the table by this point.

“I hope you are alright, Ava,” the other man said in concern.

“I will be fine, I just need some air,” she assured him. “It is rather stuffy in here.” She rose to her feet, Thranduil’s hand under her arm for support.

He led her through the crowds, taking her through to a side door which led out into the gardens.

“What did you see?” he asked, once they were out of earshot of everyone.

“War,” she replied immediately. “Not the elf war,” she corrected, as he started to speak. “The orcs are going to attack Lake Town. They are going to destroy it, and everyone there. I saw it, as clear as day.”

He remained silent for a few moments. “Do you know when this is to take place?”

She shook her head, telling him exactly what she had seen and felt. “All I can deduce from this is that it happens during the winter. The cold was icy cold, really freezing cold.”

His mind flew through various options and outcomes. “Did you see anyone you recognise?” he asked.

“No. I did not see you,” she said, knowing full well that was really what he was asking. “I saw nothing more than I have described.”

He turned from her and stared out into the darkness.

“Something occurred to me,” she said, leaning against a solid oak tree. “Gandalf said my gift seems to flourish when I am in contact with you. You can enter my mind.”

Ice blue eyes met hers, the flickering candle light from the hall behind her reflecting in them. “What is your point?”

“What if you were to fuse yourself into my mind? You could then see what I see,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. Never. It is something that is not open to abuse,” he said immediately. “It is an intrusion, it will not happen.”

“Think about it,” she urged. “It is not an intrusion if I allow you to be there. Maybe two sets of eyes are better than one.”

He stared at her, but she knew he was not seeing her. He was lost in his own thoughts. “I only ever entered your mind once,” he said finally. “I knew I should not have done it, but if I had not, you would have taken your own life.”

“And? It served a purpose, did it not? You can use that to serve another purpose,” she pointed out. 

He heaved a deep sigh of annoyance as a group of drunks staggered outside, laughing and singing, interrupting their private discussion.

“I would suggest we say nothing to Bard, or anyone else, of this,” he said, glaring over her head at the intrusive group. “We should wait until morning and speak to Mithrandir. See what he suggests.”

She nodded. “I do not feel this is immediately imminent anyway, so there is no need to take any action right now,” she said. “But it is something we cannot ignore. Not seeing the devastation I saw.” Her voice trailed off.

He lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. “It cannot be easy,” he murmered. “You see some horrible things.”

She held her hand over his, placing a kiss in his palm. “Yes. But I have you to support me and help me,” she said. “Come. It is getting too crowded out here for my likes.”

She slid her hand in his and led him back towards the doorway, stepping over humans sprawled out on the floor, drunk and merry, half comatose, babbling utter nonsense in their alcohol-fuelled haze.

“The humans never could tolerate too much wine,” he mused behind her, his free hand a comforting warmth on her lower back. “I would have thought after all these years they would have become more tolerant.”

She laughed, turning and pulling him into her arms. “Some people are quickly taken over by something intoxicating,” she whispered as her arms slid up around his shoulders. Soft music drifted over them, only just audible to their sharp hearing over the racket of the drunken revellers. Her eyes closed as she swayed slowly with him in time to the beat.

She murmered in pleasure as he wrapped his midnight blue velvet cloak around her, effectively cocooning her to him, and smiled.

Seated at the table where they had left him, Bard watched the couple.

“A match made in the heavensh,” Gandalf slurred beside him, having regained consciousness and was in the middle of drinking someone else’s wine. Shame on whoever had left an unattended goblet within his reach.

“I agree, my friend,” Bard replied, feeling a slight twinge as he remembered the close bond he had shared with his own wife. 

*****

 

 

Gandalf groaned, the bright sunlight making him jerk back and cover his eyes. “Cursed light,” he grumbled.

Ava laughed, placing a cup of hot herbal tea before him. “Drink that, Mithrandir,” she said. “You will feel like your old self in no time.”

Thranduil sat on the lower steps leading up to his throne, seemingly lost in thought. The night had been a long one. Ava had tossed and turned, unable to sink into the peaceful bliss of sleep. He too had lain awake, his mind on what she had shared with him earlier in the evening. Neither of them had attained much rest, but for the first time, it wasn’t through physical activity, but due to troubled minds.

Ava had got up and wandered the room several times, unable to shake the feeling of doom which seemed to have settled heavily on her shoulders. He had got up with her, trying to comfort and settle her, until they ended up bathing together then going back to bed to lie silently in each other’s arms.

He was exhausted.

Her eyes met his, one brow lifting slightly in concern.

He offered her a smile, parting his legs and patting the space on the steps in between. She went and sat down, his strong thighs tightening around her sides as she leaned back on his abdomen and his arms settled around her.

“Something troubles you,” Gandalf observed. “Even in my misguided state of mind, I can see something is wrong.”

She felt her husband’s chest expand at her back as he took a deep breath.

“Ava saw something last night,” he said, his deep tones sending sparks through her. 

“Something bad, I presume,” the wizard said, turning to give them his full attention. “Pray tell.”

She proceeded to tell him exactly what she saw, ending on her theory that although the attack might not be right on top of them time-wise, it was not too far in the future due to the freezing cold she had felt.

“Ava has come up with the idea of fusing myself into her mind so I can see what she sees,” Thranduil added as she finished speaking. “I am not comfortable with the idea, and do not wish to follow it through.”

Gandalf studied the pair for a few moments, his clever mind clearly at work. “I do not see the problem,” he said eventually. “If you are able to do this, and you have your wife’s blessing, what harm can it do? If anything, it will give you a clearer insight. But the attack on Lake Town...this presents a horrible outcome if we cannot halt it.”

“We should be able to do something,” Ava said. “Otherwise I would not have foreseen it. There is no point, otherwise.” Her attention strayed to a young cat who had managed to sneak past the servants and was currently padding his way over to her. Scooping the soft ball of fluff into her arms, she continued to speak. “I feel if Thranduil can access what I can see, it will give him a sharper focus on whatever faces us, and surely this cannot be wrong?”

“I just do not like the idea of intruding on your privacy,” he said behind her.

“But it is not intrusion, not if she has given you her blessing,” Gandalf insisted. “Good grief...look at the bigger picture. Ava my dear, can you block this pig-headed husband of yours if you choose?”

She laughed, tickling the cat. “Yes, I can,” she replied. “I have done so quite a few times, if I was somewhere I should not have been and did not wish him to know my whereabouts.”

He muttered something unintelligible at her back.

Amusement sparkled in the wizard’s eyes. “Then that should put your mind at rest, Thranduil,” he said. “If she does not want you in her mind, you will not get in, no matter what you do. Think of it as a safe guard of sorts. You will only get inside when she chooses to allow you.”

“I need to speak with Bard about what lies ahead,” Thranduil said. He gently toyed with the ends of her hair as he spoke, letting the silken ends drift through his fingers. “We will need to work out how to keep his people safe.”

“Of course,” Gandalf agreed. “That is why Ava saw what she did. To prevent it from happening.”

Ava turned her attention to the cat, who had snuggled down in her arms and was cuddled against her chest, purring in contentment. She slowly swayed from side to side, as though she were settling a small child. “You are so gorgeous,” she murmered in a soft voice. The cat purred louder.

Behind her, Thranduil fidgeted. Her swaying motions were causing her rear to rub against him in an erotic way, and presenting a problem. “I will bring Legolas and the captain of my guard into this,” he said, speaking more to Gandalf than his wife, who was engrossed in the bundle she held. “We will assemble our armies and clear the women and children from Lake Town, and if need be, we will hide them here somehow.”

“Is there enough room?” Ava asked, lifting her head from nuzzling the cat.

“I would imagine so,” Gandalf answered for him. “These woods are dense and stretch for miles.”

“It would not take much effort to erect some sort of temporary living arrangements,” Thranduil said. “At least the more vulnerable people would be safe, under the protection of the realm.”

“I would not let them hear you talk about them as being vulnerable,” she chortled. “Some of those women can fight just as good as their male counterparts.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But war is no place for women. Why is why, my wife, you shall not be accompanying us.”

She whipped round, gaping at him. “What?!”

“No discussion,” he said firmly. “I have made up my mind. You will remain here.”

“Like hell I will,” she snorted.

“Ava, I do not wish to barter over this. I have made my decision. As your King, and your husband, you will respect it.”

“You can kiss my ass,” she hissed, the cat tumbling from her arms as she flew to her feet.

He quickly closed his thighs, preventing either her or Gandalf from seeing what her swaying had done to him. “Ava, do not be crude,” he said. A warning lurked under his gently-spoken words.

She ignored it, and them. “You do not tell me what to do,” she spat. “As your Queen, and your wife, I remain at your side during battle.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “No.”

Her fists planted on her hips. “You do not tell me no,” she said, her tone equally warning. “I make my own decisions.”

“I think this can and should be discussed later,” Gandalf interjected, before a full-blown volcanic eruption blasted to life. 

The two of them continued to glare at each other.

“Maybe it is time we held council and informed Bard what is going to fall on his lands,” the wizard continued, determined to steer the ruling couple out of troubled waters. He thought to himself that indeed the prophecy regarding Ava’s inner fire was accurate. 

Thranduil broke her glare and glanced at him. “I shall send word and fetch he and the others,” he said. Refusing to look at his angry wife, he stood and stepped around her.

She levelled her glare at Gandalf instead, who shrugged apologetically.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has tested my patience to the limit, trying to get certain words and phrases in italics. After 6 edits, I think I've managed to get it the way it appears on my word document. Apologies for any mistakes x

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO 

 

Ava continued to bristle.  
A long and tiring council meeting had taken place, during which she grew bored and disappeared, still angry at Thranduil’s decision.  
By the time she returned, she learned that word had been sent to Lord Dain in the mountain, and he would be relied on for providing back-up. Knowing how comfortable he was in the midst of a battle field, she knew he wouldn’t miss the chance to attend.  
The armies were preparing to leave when darkness fell, and her heart sank at the thought. She and Thranduil had seldom spent a night apart, and she didn’t relish the idea of him going away and maybe not returning to her.  
Bard had sent urgent word back to his homeland, urging his people to prepare and get the women and children ready for their long journey, while the menfolk stayed behind to fend off the imminent attack.  
The palace was organised and plans were being carried out in a swift, efficient manner.  
Thranduil kept his distance, making sure everything was running smoothly and according to what he had planned out. His guards carried out his orders to perfection, ensuring the fighting machine that was the elf army was capable of the task that lay ahead.  
Once or twice Ava’s gaze caught his, but both of them looked away, still angry at each other’s stubbornness.  
Hurt, she kept herself to herself.  
Late afternoon, she found herself wandering through the almost-empty palace to the bedroom she shared with him. Once she was inside, she picked up the cloak he had discarded on the bed, savouring the feel of the soft velvet and the scent of him. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in the plush fabric and inhaled on a deep breath, willing herself to be strong.  
“It is only because I love you so much that I want you to stay here,” his soft voice said behind her.  
Sad eyes met hers as she turned.  
Still clutching the cloak, she flew to him, falling into his arms as they closed around her. “I do not wish for us to fight,” she whispered raggedly. “I love you. I worry about you. I am scared when you go into battle that I might never see you again.” Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks.  
“I shall always return, _Nin mel _,” he whispered in reply. “I will never leave you.”__  
She turned her face into him, pressing soft kisses to his neck, squeezing her eyes closed and refusing to think of the possibility that this could be the last time she held him in her arms.  
*****

____

____

 

She awoke some time later, the lands covered in the darkness of night.  
She was alone.  
Thranduil had taken her to bed and made sweet love to her, telling her over and over again how much he loved her, how much she needed to stay safe for him, and how the knowledge that she would be waiting for him would help him to get through the next few days. She had cried her eyes out, he had wept as he wiped her tears away, but both knew they had to face what was coming.  
Eventually she had fallen asleep against his chest, his heart beating strongly below her ear, his arms reassuring as they held her, his long hair sweeping over them both.  
He had left for battle while she had still been asleep.  
She rolled over, already pining for him. The bed was cold and seemed overly big without his domineering presence. The entire room had a chilled feel to it. She reached down and grabbed the cloak he had purposefully left for her, lifting it to her face and fighting back a sob as she smelled her husband from the folds of soft velvet.  
_Why did I have to fall in love with a King _? she thought to herself. _Of all the beings in the world, why a King? The one who was always in danger, whose life was always being hunted by his enemy _.____  
She sniffed and rolled over, taking the velvet with her.  
_I love you, Nin mel _.__  
Thranduil’s soothing voice echoed loud and clear in her mind, making her smile through her tears.  
_I love you so much more _, she silently replied.__  
Wiping her eyes, she threw the cloak aside and leapt out of bed, her feet thudding against the thick rug. She quickly changed, and wrapped his cloak around her once she had tugged on her knee-high boots.  
Swiftly hurrying through the palace, she found the guards on duty.  
“I need three quarters of you assembled and ready to ride within the hour,” she told the captain of the company left behind.  
“M’lady?” the captain enquired, baffled at his Queen’s request, and at the time of night she was delivering it.  
“We will be assisting the King in his mission,” she told him. “One hour. Have everyone ready to leave.”  
“But m’lady, the King left specific orders-“ he began.  
She whirled back round to face him, having turned to leave. “The King is not here...I am. You follow my orders in his absence, do I make myself clear?”  
His head lowered. “Yes, my Queen,” he mumbled. “As you wish, m’lady.”  
Satisfied he would do as she had ordered, she turned on her heel and headed out to the stables. Belan lifted her head and snorted as she approached.  
“Hey gorgeous girl,” she said, stroking her velvet nose. “We are going on an adventure tonight.”  
The horse seemed to understand, stamping one hoof on the straw-covered floor beneath her. Ava hoisted her saddle and got her ready, adjusting the reins and checking that the bit in her mouth was comfortable for her.  
“I shall be back soon, sweetheart,” she said, kissing her forehead as she left. Hurrying back to the palace, she was met by the captain, who assured her they were almost ready to leave. “Good. Have everyone ready to go as soon as you can. I shall be back in a few moments, and I will be waiting.”  
“Of course, m’lady,” he said with a bow, disappearing.  
*****

_____ _

 

The darkness closed in all around the riders, the huge mass of them making their way through the forest. Ava and Belan rode up at the front, accompanied by the captain, as Belan knew the woods by instinct and also instinctively knew where her brother and her master were. Ava relied on her guidance, and she and the horse completely trusted each other.  
The ride was mostly quiet, with only the sound of clinking armour and the horses’ hooves breaking the still air.  
Eventually they crested the hill overlooking Lake Town, where the entire valley spread out before them. Ava pulled Belan to a halt, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of her beloved husband down in amongst the residents, valiantly working through the night to keep them safe.  
They started the descent down the hill, and were met halfway up by the first groups to be moved from the town.  
“M’lady,” one of the women exclaimed, dropping to her knees before Belan.  
Ava slid off her horse’s back, touching the woman’s shoulder. “Please, there is no need,” she said. “We will help escort you safely to the King’s halls.” She turned and called a small group of soldiers to the front. “Accompany these ladies and children all the way back to the palace grounds,” she instructed them. “Do not leave them. Stay at their side the entire journey, then return once they are safe.”  
“Yes, m’lady,” the head soldier said. He and his group dismounted and helped older and more frail travellers up onto the horses, walking at their sides and disappearing into the forest.  
The captain turned his head and gazed at her, amazed.  
“What?” she asked, slightly irritated. She knew he had not wanted to obey her orders, and had done so under duress.  
He offered her a faint smile. “My King has chosen well,” he said simply, and left it at that.  
She accepted his compliment, swinging back onto Belan as the horse dutifully lowered herself down for her to mount. “That is only the first small batch. There will be hundreds more. We need to keep moving.”  
They continued downwards, reaching another cluster of groups as they neared the bottom. Again Ava arranged for them to be escorted through the woods back to the palace grounds, with a group of soldiers taking over their care as they departed.  
The captain smiled, nodding his silent approval.  
“I think they will probably keep coming through the night,” she commented. “The King will continue to empty the town until daybreak.”  
“It is safer under the cover of darkness,” the captain agreed. “They will move as many as possible before daybreak, then continue the next night if they are not finished.”  
She nodded. “Come. We will head in and see how we can assist.”  
They pushed forward, finally approaching the town. A third crowd met them, and yet again Ava sorted out a group to accompany them on their long journey. As they entered the habited area, she broke off to go in search of her husband, with the intent of keeping out of his way once she knew where he was.  
Several times she hopped down from Belan to help older women pack the essentials for their journey, calling over soldiers who had accompanied her to take them through the woodlands.  
By the time dawn broke, over three quarters of the women and children had been evacuated. Ava was exhausted, but knew she would need her wits around her as the grey sky gradually lightened with the coming daylight. Her senses were razor-sharp, and she felt danger in the air.  
The unmistakable air of impending doom.  
“Ava! What are you doing here?” Bard exclaimed, catching sight of her as he exited a building with several small children in tow. “King Thranduil said you remained in the palace!”  
“Yes, and he thinks that is exactly where I am,” she said, sliding off Belan. “Do not mention you have seen me, please. I brought three quarters of the army left behind and we have been guiding the women and children safely through the woods all night.”  
“Then I thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you have done,” Bard said, his appreciation genuine. “But the King will go mad when he finds you here.”  
“If he finds me,” she corrected. “Do not worry, I am keeping out of his way, and my soldiers have been well warned not to mention me.”  
He drew her a wry look. “On your own head be it...rather you than me,” he said.  
She grinned. “I can handle Thranduil, do not worry. Shall I guide these youngsters through to where my soldiers are?”  
“Please, if you would,” he replied. “I can go and search the eastern side and see how many are still up there.”  
“I will catch up with you later,” she said, signalling the captain over, who had seldom been far from her. “Please take these children and arrange their safe passage,” she told him. Once they were headed on their way, she turned back to continue through the town.  
Finding a group of women who were mostly elderly, she called the captain over and instructed him to ensure Belan carried the two who were more frail than the rest.  
“Stay with them,” she told him, rubbing Belan’s nose. “Stay safe, babygirl.” She kissed her forehead, closing her eyes in silent farewell.  
She watched them depart, a heavy sadness in her heart. Belan was a part of her soul, and she didn’t want to be separated from her. But the women who sought refuge had needs greater than her own, so she had no choice but to send her trusted horse.  
She climbed up onto the roof of one of the buildings to scan her surroundings, when her nose twitched.  
_Orcs _! she thought, in a panic. _Thranduil _!____  
Not sure where he was, she slid down the roof and landed neatly on her feet on the wooden walkway, taking off at a run in between the houses. Sounds of war greeted her ears almost immediately as the orcs appeared and surrounded the area, launching straight into a slaughter without a second thought.  
Adrenalin coursed through her veins as she unsheathed her swords, preparing to defend or attack; either was an option. Keeping her head down as arrows and missiles flew over, she skirted around the buildings searching both for anyone needing assistance in escaping, and for her husband.  
She halted and jumped in fright as an angry-looking orc jumped out in front of her, and reflex action drove one of her swords straight into his gut, killing him instantly. Surging forward, she encountered several more, but fended them off.  
Thranduil’s training was shining through. She fought with an energy that burned deep within her, flaring to the surface and bursting out with a strong, killer instinct. Her muscles co-ordinated perfectly and her movements were swift and deadly.  
Legolas came into view briefly as he fought, but he didn’t see her, and for that, she was thankful. Diving out of sight, she dived straight into the oncoming onslaught of orcs, holding her own and cutting a path through them.  
She turned her back on the buildings, stepping backwards as she battled against two orcs who had charged towards her. Both swords swung like lightning as she defended herself, but she couldn’t get the chance to take them down. Ducking out of the way of their blows, she swiped upwards, catching one of them unawares and dropping him to his knees. A quick swipe to her left and his head came off, ending half of her problem.  
The second orc did not fall as easily. He side-stepped her continually, outsmarting her and blocking every move. He was larger than her and stronger, therefore more deadly with his weapons. Her foot caught on a slightly protruding plank and she stumbled, crashing to one knee.  
She looked up in horror as he lifted his sword above his head, his evil face twisted in a maniacal grin. A second later, a heavy sword swiped over her head and beheaded him.  
Twisting round, she turned pale and her jaw dropped as she found Thranduil behind her, his sword still suspended as he had swung it.  
Scrambling to her feet, she opened her mouth to speak. Her furious husband shifted, grabbed her arm and dragged her through the streets away from the fighting.  
Coming to a stop beside the old port, he turned on her. “What do you think you are doing?” he shouted. “I ordered you to stay behind! And again, you defied my orders!”  
“That is because I do not take orders, not from you or anyone!” she shouted back. “We have made a difference here through the night!”  
“You have been here all night?” he roared. “I only left you yesterday evening! Did you not listen to me, at all?”  
“No! Because you barked orders at me like I am some kind of trained animal, and that is not how I function,” she yelled. “I told you – my place is with you, whether you like and accept it or not. That is up to you.”  
He swooped down to her, fury blazing blue flames in his eyes. “As my wife, you are supposed to do as I ask!” he hissed.  
“You did not ask, you commanded,” she snapped. “And until you learn that I have feelings and emotions and to ask instead of issuing orders like you would your armies, then I shall not comply!”  
“You have no respect for me as your husband, or your King!” he said coldly.  
“Not when you treat me like a possession, an object!” she spat. “Treat me as an equal, and maybe you will see a change. Until then, forget it!”  
“Maybe I shall!” he bellowed as she turned her back and stormed in the opposite direction. She stopped and whirled back around, fury on her face.  
His eyes grew wide as she whipped her dagger from her side, lifted it over her shoulder and threw it full force, straight at his face.

_____ _

_____ _

_____ _

 

Thranduil gasped as the dagger flew at him, and his heart stopped.  
_How could you _?__  
A millisecond later it shot past his cheek, the air moving his hair as it hurtled past. A dull grunt sounded behind him followed by a heavy thud. He spun round to see a massive orc on his knees, the dagger protruding from between his eyes.  
Whipping back round to Ava, he gaped at her.  
She straightened her shoulders. “Because I love you, you arrogant pain in the ass,” she said, in reply to his silent plea.  
She turned to walk away, knowing she would be more productive out in battle than locked in a battle of the wills with him. He lunged forwards, grabbing her arms and turning her back to him.  
His lower lip trembled, and he looked as though he was in pain. He searched her eyes, seeming to struggle for the right words. Giving up, he crushed her body against his, burying his face in her hair as he cradled the back of her head. “We cannot resolve this here, right now,” he said, his voice shaky. He pulled back to look into her eyes again. “I just want you to be safe.”  
“If I fight at your side, I will be,” she said. She stood on her toes and pulled his head down to hers. His warm mouth felt like heaven after only one solitary night apart. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” he whispered. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Are you ready?”  
“Lead the way, my King,” she replied, a devilish smile appearing.  
They pulled apart and unsheathed their swords. Their eyes met, a smile shared, and they headed off at a run back into the battle.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE 

 

Snowflakes fell from the skies, their soft, gentle kiss melting as they landed. They floated through the air with a peaceful grace.  
They did not land in a peaceful state.  
War raged all around, as the elf armies worked in conjunction with the humans, battling against the odds to protect both the people and their homeland. The orcs had formidable strength, and cascaded by the thousands into the town from all directions.  
Ava stayed at Thranduil’s side throughout, defending and attacking, depending on the situation and what it presented. The warrior at her shoulder guided her and gave her strength when she needed it, and overall she found renewed vigour with him beside her.  
Several times they found themselves completely surrounded with the odds of making it out alive at practically zero, but they did not give in. To give in would mean to die, and neither of them were prepared to do that. They fought hard for what seemed like hours, muscles and limbs tired and aching.  
Eventually they broke through and faced only a few surviving orcs, and Thranduil hurried Ava away leaving his soldiers to finish the battle. They met up with his captains and Legolas, who looked only mildly surprised to see her there.  
“Losses?” Thranduil demanded straight away, panting heavily from exertion.  
“Heavy, my Lord,” one of his leaders replied. “The entire company from the south east side is down.”  
Ava dropped her head, closing her eyes. These men had lost their lives and would never be returning home to their families.  
Thranduil’s fingers tightened around hers as he spoke. “We will rest once we clear our dead,” he said. “Legolas, I will see you and my captains afterwards. There are things we must discuss.”  
His son nodded, looking exhausted. He hopped down from the low roof he had been perched upon, heading off to assist with removing the bodies of their fallen soldiers.  
The captains left too, not looking forward to their grim task any more than they had been looking forward to engaging in the battle against the monsters who were intent on overrunning Lake Town.  
Thranduil turned to Ava, his ice blue eyes searching hers. “We must talk,” he said softly.  
She returned his gaze, nodding gently. “I know.”  
“I have to go and help with the losses,” he said. “Then we will meet up after.”  
“I will go help the injured,” she told him. “You will know where to find me when you are finished.”  
He dropped a brief kiss on her mouth, turning and striding away, his shoulders heavy with defeat due to the amount of blood that had been spilt, both elvish and human.  
“Thranduil,” she called softly.  
He halted, turning back to look at her.  
She shook her head. “It is not over yet.”  
He nodded sadly, before disappearing to assist his soldiers.  
She gathered her thoughts together, and went off in search of those needing help. The next couple of hours passed fairly rapidly, with her administering first aid to those who required it and staying with those who were too badly injured to pull through.  
She wiped her eyes as she eventually let go of one soldier’s hand as he breathed his last. Lifting her head, she saw Belan plodding slowly towards her. Feeling a burst of relief, she leapt to her feet and ran to her, throwing her arms around her long neck.  
“Oh babygirl...I missed you,” she said as the horse nuzzled her shoulder affectionately. She turned to the soldiers who had returned with her, having safely escorted the last group of women and children back to the palace.  
“M’lady,” the head guard nodded respectfully. He glanced around, scanning the devastation before him.  
“It has been pretty bad,” she told him, answering his unasked question. “Dain has not arrived yet, but I fear he will be needed sooner that he anticipates.”  
“The messengers have left already?” he enquired.  
She nodded. “The King dispatched them as soon as they decided when to leave the palace. With any luck, he should be here by tomorrow at sunrise.”  
“How is the King?”  
She swallowed. “He is helping to clear our fallen,” she said. “He is unharmed.”  
“Good,” the guard said, a tone of relief in his voice. “Are there anymore to accompany from here?”  
“A few small groups,” she replied. “But maybe best to check with the King, he may wish to move them through the night tonight. I am not sure of his plans as yet.”  
Her gaze drifted past the guard as she spoke, catching sight of Thranduil. He stepped slowly, carrying a fallen elf in his arms. His eyes lifted and met hers, and she felt a strong wave of grief wash over her. He carried one of his most trusted guards, one who had stayed loyal to him for centuries and had battled at his side countless times.  
He dropped his gaze, stepping over debris and disappearing from her view.  
Closing her eyes against the pain, she turned back to the guard. “I think it is best to help clear the town,” she said quietly. “I will remain here with the injured, as I think I would be more useful to them.”  
“Of course, m’lady,” the guard said, bowing his head and turning his horse. He led his company away, while Belan remained at her side.  
“I was so worried about you,” she said, rubbing her nose. The animal snorted softly in response, making her smile a little.  
A gloved hand reached over her shoulder and stroked Belan’s neck, and she turned to see Thranduil standing behind her.  
“Are you alright?” she asked, scanning his eyes for the truth he would undoubtedly keep from her.  
“I have been better,” was all he said. “Come with me. You are exhausted.”  
He dropped his hand and folded it around hers, the heat from him gradually thawing her frozen fingers. They wandered through the derelict town and took refuge in an abandoned workhouse.  
Lifting her up onto a worktop, he stood facing her.  
She swung her crossed ankles, leaning her hands on the edge of the wooden surface, and waited, knowing that this time there would not be any explosions of temper or rage.  
He shook his head after a long silence. “I do not know what to do with you,” he said on a sigh. “Each and every time this happens, you go against my wishes.”  
“That is because they are not wishes, Thranduil...they are orders. As your wife I will not stand down and let you die, it is that simple,” she replied.  
“War is no place for a female,” he said.  
“I am no ordinary female,” she told him. “You and Legolas have trained me to fight, you have both pushed me to become a warrior, and not without reason.”  
He inhaled deeply. “I pushed you so you would be able to defend yourself if you were ever in a position where I was not at your side,” he said. “Instead, you are using the skills I taught you on the battlefield. That was not what they were intended for, _Nin mel _.”__  
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug of acknowledgement. “Maybe, maybe not,” she conceded. “I use what you taught me as and when needed. What use would I have been back in the palace? Give me an honest answer.”  
Ice blue glared at her, just a flicker of annoyance shining through. “You would have been safer,” he replied. “And you would have been preparing for the women and children arriving, getting them settled, making sure they were fed and warm.”  
“I assigned that to your most trusted servants,” she told him. “Next?”  
He groaned in frustration, making the corners of her mouth lift in a small smile. She immediately straightened her face as he glanced back at her.  
“This is not funny, Ava,” he said. “Ever since you came into my life, I have done everything I can to protect you. How can I, when you are tearing around in the middle of a war? How can I keep you safe when you are constantly evading every precaution I put in place, jumping into danger and beheading everything that crosses your path?”  
“Every enemy I take down is one less for you to face,” she said. “And I took down quite a lot today.”  
“I know,” he said. “I saw the amount of orc corpses as I tracked where you were. I would know your sword work anywhere.”  
She frowned. “How did you even know I was here?”  
“I knew a long time before I found you,” he replied, lifting a hand and removing his gloves, finger by finger. “I felt you partway through the night. At first I thought it was because we had connected and spoken to each other, but the feeling grew stronger, and I knew you were somewhere nearby.”  
“So much for me scouting where you were then keeping out of your way,” she muttered.  
He gently combed his fingers through her hair, tugging free the band she had used to secure it into a long ponytail. “I prefer your hair loose around your shoulders,” he whispered. “And you can never hide from me; you should be aware of that by now.”  
She smiled. “I do know, but I tried anyway.”  
He frowned, still running his hands through her hair. “Do not ever be afraid of me, my love,” he said quietly. “Yes, I will shout at you and get angry with you, but never be afraid of me.”  
“I will shout back and get angry too,” she told him. “But I will always turn up to be with you, no matter where you are.”  
“Maybe I should have put you in the dungeons,” he muttered, stepping closer.  
“You would not dare,” she said, a flame of anger flickering to life.  
He smiled. “Relax. Tempting as the thought might be, and you would be safe there, I would not do such a thing,” he said. His hand slid around to her jaw, holding her still as he touched his mouth to hers. A low murmer of pleasure rumbled through him as she responded, her lips parting to his silent plea.  
“Ah...my Lord...oh...”  
Thranduil broke the kiss, frustration and anger washing over him, and turned to his guard who was standing in the doorway. “What?”  
“I am sorry my Lord, m’lady...I did not mean to interrupt,” he said. “We have completed the task. What do you wish us to do now?”  
Blue eyes blazing with passion met Ava’s. “Settle in the region we arranged, and get some rest,” he replied, not taking his eyes from hers. “We will need our strength for later this evening, possibly sooner.”  
“Yes, my Lord,” the guard replied, and disappeared with the customary bow.  
Ava smiled. “We can never get a private moment, can we?” she murmered. “Maybe right now is not the time. You need rest as well as everyone else, so maybe we should try and get some sleep while we can.”  
As turned on as he was, he had to agree. “I am sorely in need of sleep,” he said, lifting her from the worktop. “You will be tired also.”  
“I had some sleep before I left last night,” she replied, as he took her hand and they walked out of the workhouse. “Probably a lot more than you.”  
“I can get by on very little sleep,” he said.  
She pffft’d. “I cannot,” she said with a laugh. “I definitely need a recharge.”  
He stopped, gazing down at her for a few moments.  
She returned his gaze, reading the unspoken question in his eyes. “Did you really think I would throw a blade at you?”  
A slight smile graced his mouth. “No,” he said decidedly. “However, you were so angry, I wondered if I had pushed you too far.”  
“I heard you,” she said, swinging their hands between them as they continued to walk. “I heard you ask _how could you _as I threw it. That hurt a little.”__  
“I am sorry,” he murmered. “I thought maybe I had overstepped the line.”  
“No. I just sensed an orc behind you who had no right being that close to my husband.” She glanced up at him. “And nothing is going to bring harm to you while I am around.”  
He smiled, squeezing her fingers.  
*****

____

 

“Ava.”  
She mumbled, wriggling deeper into the arms that held her, pressing tighter to the bare, warm chest that radiated heat through her body.  
“Ava.”  
“Go ‘way,” she murmered sleepily, ignoring the voice.  
A soft snort of laughter tickled past her ear. “My love, we must arise,” the voice said.  
She grunted in annoyance, flipping round and pressing her back against the heat, pushing her rear against something that had already arisen.  
“Do not do this,” Thranduil chuckled, his voice sending goosebumps all over her flesh. “It is time for us to continue with the task at hand.”  
She reached out and grabbed the cloak he had wrapped around them, tugging it tighter under her chin. “No.” She felt his chest vibrate as he laughed.  
A soft, warm kiss was placed below her right ear. “Ava...wake up, precious,” he whispered.  
“Dammit!” she grunted in annoyance, opening her eyes. Turning her head, she saw him propped up on one elbow, looking as though he had never seen a day’s battle in his life. “How can you look so fresh and revived already?” she demanded.  
He smiled a lazy smile. “I told you – I do not require much sleep.”  
“Lucky you,” she grumbled. “My god, it is cold!”  
“Wrap up warm,” he advised as he rose from the makeshift bed where they had slept. “It is going to be a clear night, so the temperature will drop even further, although we shall be busy enough not to feel it too much.”  
“I cannot work out the motive behind this unprovoked attack,” she said, grabbing her clothing and wriggling into it while she was still under the warmth of the cloak. “I do not feel this has anything to do with me, but I am at a loss as to what it does have to do with.”  
He turned to her as he fastened his tunic, hiding the sculpted muscles underneath. “Will you do something for me if I ask you?”  
“Of course,” she answered, sitting up and pulling her boots on.  
He hesitated. “The last of the women and children should be on their way before the night is over,” he said. “I want you to return with them.”  
She whipped round, facing him with fury in her eyes. “No.”  
His shoulders dropped, and he shook his head. “Ava, please.”  
“No,” she repeated. “What do I have to do to get you to understand me on this?” She leapt to her feet, standing before him. “Do I have to write it in blood?”  
“Do not make jokes about that,” he said. “I fear for your safety...surely you can understand that?”  
“Yet you have females fighting in your armies,” she retaliated.  
“Females who are not my wife,” he corrected her softly.  
“Good point, but nevertheless, my answer remains the same,” she said. “Maybe Mithrandir is right about you being pig-headed. Maybe someday you will finally see where I am coming from.”  
He looked away in exasperation. “I see I cannot change your mind, not even by begging you to return,” he said. “At least promise me this – you stay with me or Legolas at all times, until the danger becomes too great, then you retreat to safety.”  
“Agreed,” she said, meeting him half way.  
“The dungeons sound like a better idea as each hour passes,” he muttered as he stepped around her to put on his breastplate.  
“I heard that,” she said dryly. “I swear, if you ever-“  
Her words were cut off as he swooped down, crushing his mouth to hers. “You have my word, I will never do that,” he whispered. “Never.”  
Satisfied, she chased his mouth for another kiss, before releasing him to continue putting on his armour.  
“Do you expect another attack so quickly?” she asked, sinking her teeth into a juicy red apple.  
His gaze dropped to her lips as she licked the juice from them. “I always expect the unexpected,” he replied. “You can never trust your enemy. They will always use cunning and deceit to get what they want.”  
“Well so will we,” she said, taking another few bites and handing the rest of the apple to him. “Eat this. I will meet you outside.”  
He bit into the fruit, watching her leave the draughty building. He had been right – the day she had slapped him, he had found a fire to match his own strong will.  
He followed her out of their shelter and found most of the soldiers congregated in groups around campfires, talking and trying to boost one another’s spirits. Ava had disappeared into the midst of them, talking to them and he saw her presence boosted their moods. Maybe having her at his side was not such a bad thing, although he still fretted over protecting her.  
Eventually they sorted back into their companies, continuing with the evacuation of the remaining residents.  
She and Thranduil worked side by side, finally sending the last group of women and children off under escort through the forest.  
“At least something good has happened from all this,” she commented, watching them disappear into the woods.  
Thranduil stood behind her, his arms around her waist. “I told you that your gift could either create or destroy,” he replied. “And the prophecy was correct in the sense that it went to the one who would use it wisely.”  
“But if I was still unmarried, I would not have the means to prevent anything like what I saw,” she pointed out.  
He shrugged. “But you are not still unwed, nor will you ever be again,” he replied. “Maybe there was some knowledge through the realms of time about that aspect also.”  
“Maybe,” she murmered. “I do not think tonight will pass uneventful...something dark hangs over us.”  
His arms tightened fractionally. “Then we will be ready,” he said. “The people of this town have been through more than enough, more than any should have to endure in three lifetimes. There is no need for them to suffer any more.”  
“Spoken like a true King,” she murmered, her hands resting on top of his.


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR 

 

The coldness of the night was settling in, with Ava and the assembled soldiers feeling the bite of the freezing temperatures. Most of them sat around blazing campfires, waiting for whatever the night held in store.  
Thranduil sat with them, Ava snuggled against him under the protective folds of his cloak.  
“You should have gone back,” he murmered as he felt her shiver.  
“No chance,” she tutted. “I’d much rather be here than going mad shut away in the palace.”  
“You would not be alone,” he said. “There is plenty to keep you occupied until we leave here.”  
“Good,” she retorted. “That will keep the staff busy. My place is here with you.”  
He snorted softly, choosing not to reply, as his hands caressed her back through the heavy velvet.  
“My Lord, movement on the hill,” his captain informed him, appearing on the other side of the fire.  
“Friend or foe?” Thranduil questioned.  
“Friend,” Ava answered immediately. “It is Dain and the dwarves.”  
“Good,” he said. She unfolded herself from him, allowing him to stand. He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “We will need him before dawn, I am sure of that.”  
“I am in agreement,” she replied. “How far away are they?” She directed her question to the guard.  
“About half an hour away, m’lady,” he replied. He bowed, then disappeared.  
She turned to her husband, noting the haunted look in the blue ice of his eyes. “Are you alright?” she asked with a concerned frown.  
“Yes,” he replied. In truth, he was battling with himself over his relenting of her staying at his side. His instinct and protective nature insisted she should have gone with the last of the women and children, but she had stubbornly refused to go. He sincerely hoped her decision would not result in eternal heartbreak for him. “We had better prepare for their arrival.”  
She nodded, knowing he was keeping his inner thoughts from her, and knowing full well what those thoughts were. The sooner he accepted that she was a part of him no matter where he was, the easier life would be for him. And for her.  
Within the half hour, Dain announced his arrival with lots of hooting and hollering, his entrance seeming quite jovial amidst the air of depression and low moods.  
“Never let anyone say you do not know how to brighten up a battlefield,” Ava laughed, bending down to kiss his cheek. “Welcome.”  
“Glad to be here,” the dwarf lord said. “Anything for a kiss from a beautiful lady, even if she is an elf and married to old pointy-ears!”  
She laughed, knowing he was full of fun and nonsense. “He’s not as old as you would like to make out,” she told him. “Not when he’s with me anyway.”  
Dain threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Do not poison my mind with thoughts of elvish sex!” he howled.  
“I do not think I wish to know why you speak to my wife about anything sexual,” Thranduil said, his arm sliding around Ava’s waist as he came up behind her. She turned to glance at him over her shoulder, noting the sparkle in his eyes.  
“What you don’t know, you cannae moan about,” Dain told him, sticking his hand out to shake his. “I hear you did well against the orcs during the day.”  
He nodded. “It was a hard battle, but we have won the first round,” he said.  
“And we’ll win every bloody round,” Dain said determinedly. “No foul-smelling beast will get the better of us.”  
“Food had been prepared for your arrival,” Ava told him. “You must be hungry, shall we eat?”  
“Always hungry, always ready for a battle,” he replied, jumping from his boar. “Lead the way!”  
*****

 

The merriment carried on through the early hours, hoards of elves and dwarfs laughing and enjoying being in each others’ company. Ava cast her eye over the masses assembled, a peaceful feeling settling over her as she watched elves, dwarves, and humans interacting with one another.  
The peaceful feeling was shattered instantly as an arrow from a crossbow shot past her nose, splitting the wooden fence beside her. She squealed in fright, jumping back.  
Thranduil reacted instantly, throwing her backwards onto the grass and rolling his weight on top of her to protect her.  
Everybody leapt to their feet and scattered in different directions, leaping onto horseback or running on foot in the direction the arrow had come from.  
“Get off me!” she yelled, pushing at Thranduil’s shoulders.  
“Stay still!” he shouted back over the racket surrounding them. “You have no armour!”  
“Bugger that,” she spat. “Get up, dammit. We are no use here!” She heaved him to one side with a mighty shove, scrambling to her knees and assessing the chaos. “Damn...the orcs must have sneaked past the west tower. Come on!” She bounced to her feet and took off, throwing herself onto Belan’s back and swiftly turning her.  
Thranduil leapt onto Belroch and followed as she galloped across the village square.  
“We must have been sitting targets,” she said to him as he caught up with her.  
He didn’t reply, anger flooding through him as he thought about how their enemy had got past his watchers, and how close to Ava that arrow had been. He withdrew his sword as he fell in behind her, swiping at an orc who presented himself within an inch of her shoulder as she sped through the village. The beast howled in agony and fell instantly.  
She pulled Belan to a halt, turning to face him. “Thankyou, my husband,” she said, a mischievous smile on her face.  
“Any time, my wife,” he replied, pulling alongside her and pressing a quick but fierce kiss on her mouth. “Stay safe, my love.”  
“And you,” she said, and galloped off down a side street to help Legolas and his team of soldiers as they fought against a hoard of orcs.  
He hesitated for a brief couple of seconds, his heart telling him to keep her with him, but his logic telling him his son would look after her. He kicked Belroch into a gallop, heading towards Bard in the midst of the fighting.  
Ava jumped Belan over a narrow river that ran through the middle of the village, the huge horse landing perfectly and not missing a step. They hurtled onwards, crashing in the middle of Legolas’s own battle as she whipped both her swords out. Releasing the horse’s reins, she twisted and turned, blood spraying in all directions as she fought like a demon. Having made peace with Thranduil and knowing he was nearby had given her a renewed sense of purpose, and she was going to deliver that purpose with everything she had.  
“Ava! Get down!” Legolas screamed, and she instinctively bent low on Belan’s back as an arrow flew past, hitting one of the orcs in the chest as he advanced on her. She whirled round on the horse, stabbing another between the eyes as he aimed a crossbow at her step-son.  
Nodding to each other, they turned back to continue.  
Wooden buildings splintered and fell in the darkness, as hundreds and hundreds of orcs ploughed through the town, destroying everything in their path, be it alive or inanimate. Fire blazed out of control, and missiles and weapons were in full force.  
Ava grinned as she sliced her sword across an orc’s throat, Dain charging past roaring like a bull as he swung his war hammer around his head. She caught sight of Legolas up on a roof, flames within inches of his feet.  
“Jump!” she yelled, swinging Belan round and galloping over so she was within reach. He deftly slid down and landed behind her, the horse turning and abandoning the scene as the building crashed to the ground, consumed by the flames. She jumped up onto a stone ledge, where he hopped off again, firing arrows rapidly at the advancing enemy. Ava flew back towards the dwarves, cutting down orcs as she thundered in amongst them. Reaching down, she grabbed one of the dwarves who had dropped his weapon and hoisted him up in front of her, taking off and removing him from harm’s way.  
“Thankyou, m’lady,” he said as he slid off on safer grounds.  
“Any time,” she replied with a smile, and turned back.  
Blood flowed through the village, the air acrid with the smell and the smoke from the fires. She slid from Belan’s back, giving her a quick kiss and telling her hurriedly to go back to safety. The horse had served her well, but she needed to be on the ground at this point.  
Belan took off, and she swung both her swords outwards, turning in rapid circles as a group of orcs closed in on her. They fell in pairs, and she hopped over the bodies as she closed in on Bard.  
They fought together against a mass, some of his counterparts falling foul of the enemy’s weapons.  
Thranduil charged out of nowhere on Belroch, grabbing Ava and swinging her up behind him, and kept going. She slid back off as they neared Legolas, and nodded to him as he turned back again. Jumping to his son’s side, she threw all her energy into aiding him and his company of soldiers.  
*****

 

The battle raged on through the night. The skies gradually lightened as dawn approached, revealing the horror of what had occurred under the cover of darkness.  
Still the enemy rampaged forwards, still they fought and defended.  
Ava would catch an occasional glimpse of Thranduil, and relief would settle over her each time, knowing he was alright. Likewise, he would catch sight of her as she fought, and he would be content for those few seconds until she disappeared from his line of vision.  
Legolas and Dain were never far from her, whereas Bard stayed with him.  
She found herself edging backwards, as a seemingly invincible orc attacked her. Hatred shone from his evil eyes, as he pushed her further back. Each step she took was accompanied by a swing of his sword, and a deflection from her own. As her temper ignited, she swung both her weapons inwards towards each other, slicing in on either side of his neck and ending him.  
Jumping out of the way as his body crashed to her feet, she glanced up to see Belan galloping towards her.  
A horrified scream tore from her throat as a crossbow arrow thudded into the horse’s chest, and she toppled to the ground.  
Time stopped.  
Thranduil had heard her scream of terror over the noise of the battle raging around him, and his heart stopped.  
She re-sheathed her swords and ran like lightning through the slaughter, desperate to get to her horse. She slid to a stop beside her, landing on her side and bumping into her.  
“Belan!” she screamed, tears blinding her. “Belan!”  
The horse struggled with a final breath, as her eyes changed and her life drained away.  
Ava screamed and screamed until she had no voice, her arms around the animal who lay motionless beneath her.  
Thranduil tore over to her, wrapping his arms around her and trying to lift her.  
She struggled, refusing to let go, screaming and crying.  
“Ava, let her go,” he urged.  
She wouldn’t relinquish her hold. Belan’s blood soaked her clothing and her arms remained tight around her.  
He resorted to using brute strength and forced her to let go, lifting her into his arms. She fought and struggled, breaking free and going back to the horse.  
“Ava! Let her go, she has gone!” he shouted over the noise. “Listen to me, Ava!”  
Still she cried and screamed, still she fought to stay with her. Thranduil lifted her over his shoulder and strode away with her, heartbroken over the loss of the animal, but knowing Ava’s life was more precious. He carried her kicking and screaming over to his son, who had seen the horse’s demise and her reaction.  
“Look after her,” he said, leaning forwards and depositing her on her feet. She instantly bolted by him, but he grabbed her and prevented her from tearing back to where Belan lay. Dragging her back, he gripped her upper arms and shouted at her. “Ava! Stop it – stay with Legolas!” He pushed her into his arms and turned away, determined more than ever to finish what they had started.  
Legolas held her firm, despite her struggles to free herself. He too felt the pain of losing the horse, but knew she would be taking it harder as they had been inseparable. He watched his father go back into battle, hoping it would be over before long. They had all suffered far too many losses.  
*****

 

Ava was locked into her own world on the ride home.  
The battle had been won in their favour, the orcs falling in death or retreating when they knew they were outnumbered. Lake Town had been almost destroyed, and each alliance had suffered many losses. The men had decided to accompany the elves back to the palace to their wives and children, while Dain and the dwarves had bid everyone farewell and returned to the mountain.  
The trek through the forest seemed to go on forever, Thranduil staying silent as he guided Belroch towards home. Ava sat cradled in between his thighs, oblivious to her surroundings as they made their way through the woods.  
The general air was gloomy; even though they had been victorious. Each soldier or human remembered their fallen in their own way, the miles disappearing beneath the steady hooves of their horses.  
When they assembled back in the courtyard, Legolas and the captain immediately set to organising the men to settle with their families, arranging for food to be brought to them in the temporary accommodation which had seemingly sprung up almost overnight as the women had arrived. The armies of soldiers disarmed and settled their horses, each one weary after a long couple of nights away.  
Ava slid from Thranduil’s hold as soon as Belroch stopped, disappearing into the palace without a word or a look at anyone.  
Thranduil watched her go, his heart breaking for her, but knowing it would be some time before he could be with her. He swiftly settled his horse, before helping to settle others and ensuring various families were informed of their loved ones falling in battle.  
Three hours passed before he was finally free from his obligations.  
He headed straight to the bedroom, a wave of relief washing over him as he found his wife safely inside. Closing the door quietly behind him, he shrugged his cape from his shoulders and started to remove his armour, keeping an eye on her.  
She didn’t move. Lying curled on her side in the bed, she stayed as still as a statue. He set his armour on a nearby chest and peeled his tunic off, before kicking his feet free from his boots and stripping off his leggings. He pulled the blanket back and slid in behind her, tucking his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss on the top of her shoulder.  
She said nothing, so he rested his chin on her arm and kept quiet, just waiting.  
“I should have listened to you,” she said after a long, long silence.  
He let her words hang in the air between then for a few moments. “You cannot change things now, my love,” he replied eventually. “What is done, is done.”  
A tear rolled down her cheek, dropping onto her hair spread out on the pillow. “I should never have taken Belan,” she whispered.  
His hand caressed her lower arm, the warmth a sharp contrast to her cold limb.  
“I saw the battle, I saw the devastation it would bring,” she said, a catch to her voice. “The power to change the future...I have changed it for the worst.”  
He propped himself up on one elbow, turning her onto her back so they could look at each other. She turned her face away, but he already knew she was still crying quietly. Gently turning her to face him with one fingertip, he gazed into her heartbroken eyes. “You saved hundreds of lives with what you saw,” he told her. “We acted on your vision, we changed the outcome. Yes, there were heavy losses all round, but if we had done nothing, the whole town could possibly have been slaughtered.”  
She blinked, releasing more silent tears.  
“I know how much you are hurting over Belan,” he whispered. “She kept you safe so many times, and she would have given her life to protect you. If you had not gone against my orders, there is a good chance I might not be here – you took down quite a few orcs that were too close to me without my knowledge.”  
She sighed, knowing deep down that he was right, and also that he was trying to show her the flip side of the coin to bring her some sense of peace. “I am so lost without her,” she said.  
He lifted stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I know sweetheart, I know how close you were. And I am so sorry she has gone, but we cannot bring her back. Hold your memories of her close in your heart my love, she will never be far from you.”  
She took a deep, shuddering breath, leaning against his chest as he pulled her flush against him, grief over losing her animal sending shards of physical pain through her. Large hands gently stroked her hair and her back, trying to soothe her and bring her a little peace. Her eyes burned and her heart ached an unbearable pain, and she felt that nothing would ever ease what she was feeling.  
“Try to sleep, _Nin mel _,” Thranduil said after a long time had passed. “You need rest.”__  
“And when I wake up in the morning, nothing will have changed,” she whispered. “Belan will still be gone.”  
Knowing there was nothing he could say to ease her pain, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and tightened his arms around her.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE 

 

The night seemed to drag on forever.  
Ava had finally drifted off into a restless sleep, from which she woke several times crying or screaming. Each time Thranduil woke up instantly, doing his best to calm her and lull her back into the safe cocoon of unconsciousness. Each time she went back under, only to resurface a short while later.  
Come sunrise, he was exhausted.  
Rolling over onto his back, he rubbed his eyes against the intrusion of the harsh sunlight. Memories of the previous day haunted him, images of Belan falling foul of an orc’s arrow, the sound of Ava screaming like her life was being torn from her, the fight to drag her away from the fallen horse to safety.  
Glancing down at where her head rested against his shoulder, he tucked her hair behind her ear.  
Sensing his touch, her eyes slowly opened. She focused on him, saying nothing.  
He studied her for a few moments, noting the sadness that lurked in the blue depths, before slowly touching his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss.  
She sighed quietly, tucking her head against his neck as he rolled back to face her. “I do not wish to face the day ahead,” she said softly.  
“I know, my love,” he answered. His hand rubbed slowly up and down her back. “But you cannot hide away. I will not let you.”  
She didn’t reply.  
“I am going to bathe,” he said after a while. “Will you join me?”  
“I do not feel like it,” she replied.  
“I understand. But I do, and I wish for you to bathe with me,” he told her. He knew his words would possibly rile her, but he was determined to pull her through the day with him, rather than leave her to mourn alone in the confines of their personal quarters.  
She lifted her eyes to his, less than a few inches separating them. “I know what you are doing,” she said.  
One eyebrow lifted. “I merely wish for some personal time with my wife,” he said, which was the truth. Ice blue stared back at her.  
Shaking her head, she pulled away and sat up, holding her head in her hands. He remained where he was, his hand still rubbing her back.  
“You will never forget her, maybe never really come to terms with losing her, but you must take each day as it comes,” he said softly.  
Blue fire flashed over her shoulder at him, but she didn’t argue.  
The bed dipped as he moved behind her, sliding out and rising to his feet. She watched him cross the floor, his long hair trailing down his back, a graceful precision to his movements she would otherwise have deemed impossible for someone of his height. Closing her eyes in defeat and throwing herself back down onto the bed, she let out a groan of frustration. Frustration at what she was feeling, and frustration at not being able to change anything.  
The bed dipped again, and she opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, his hands planted on either side of her on the bed. Long blond hair swept over her upper arms.  
“The water is warm,” he said.  
“You are going to make me do this, aren’t you?”  
“Yes.”  
“I hate you.” There was no malice, anger, or truth to her words, just a touch of insolence.  
He grinned, sliding his arms under her and bodily lifting her from the bed. “You do not hate me, my love,” he said as he carried her over to the rock pool. “You could not find it in yourself to hate me if you tried.” He set her down so she was sitting on the rock ledge, and carefully twisted her hair up into a knot on the top of her head. He stepped into the water, taking her hand and easing her down into the bubbling warmth. “You will feel a little better once you have relaxed for a while.”  
She let her hand drift over the surface of the water, bursting bubbles that appeared as he poured fragranced oil from a small bottle. “I wonder how everybody settled last night,” she murmered, almost to herself. Glancing at Thranduil, she blushed slightly. “I did not do my duties when we arrived back.”  
He shrugged. “There was no need,” he replied. “Everyone knew and accepted you needed time alone. I am just sorry I could not be with you sooner. I had so much to do before I could retire for the night.”  
“I should have been with you,” she said.  
“Nonsense. You can help me today. There is still much to be done,” he said, lifting a washcloth and soaking it in the water.  
“I do not want to go anywhere,” she said.  
Gently turning her so that her back was to him, he began washing her. “I am aware of this. But I require you with me.”  
She snorted softly. “You do not.”  
He paused. “I wish for your presence,” he said, his tone like velvet.  
Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she inhaled deeply.  
“I need you Ava, so do our people, and the people who seek refuge here,” he reminded her. “That is why I will not let you waste away while you mourn alone. It will do you no good, you need to have others around you right now.”  
Her head dropped forward as she struggled with her emotions. “I know that you are right,” she admitted. “I do not know if I am strong enough to face anyone at the moment though.”  
He continued washing her, his strong movements easing her a little. “You have strength in you that you do not know you have,” he told her. “You will find strength and comfort in those around you. Trust me. I do not intend on leaving you by yourself today.”  
“Somehow, I believe you when you say that,” she said, a slight touch of humour in her words.  
“Good,” he replied. He handed her the washcloth and leaned back against the edge of the pool, his arms stretched out on either side of him. She finished washing herself, before turning around and facing him.  
His head was leaning back against the rock, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.  
Love flooded through her. He was beyond tired after what they had been through, yet he had comforted her and been at her side throughout the night without getting a proper rest himself. She soaped the cloth and washed him with gentle, tender movements, then rinsed the soap away.  
He opened his eyes as she leaned back, having completed her task. “I could have fallen asleep while you were doing that,” he said.  
She smiled slightly. “I thought you were asleep.”  
“I could not, not while your hands are on me like that,” he replied, tugging her towards him and kissing her. “We need to eat.”  
“Mmm,” she agreed reluctantly.  
Within a short time they had left the water, dried each other, and got dressed. She breathed slowly and evenly as they walked through the palace together, absorbing strength from the warrior who held her hand in a tight but loving grip.  
Gandalf looked up as they entered the huge dining hall. “Ah, lovely to see you both,” he commented, rising from his seat. “I am glad you have returned safely.” He approached them and shook Thranduil’s hand, before enfolding Ava in a warm embrace. “Find the peace you need within your husband, my dear,” he whispered in her ear.  
She nodded, biting her lip as she pulled back. “I will,” she replied.  
The wizard had remained at the palace during the battle, but had no doubtedly been told what had happened. “You will be pleased to know that most of your guests, as it were, were settled overnight,” he said. “The men are already in discussion about rebuilding what they can as soon as they can return.”  
“I thought they would have taken some time to rest and come to terms with what has happened,” she said with a frown.  
Thranduil shook his head. “No. Bard will lead them into rebuilding what was theirs. They will not sit back and take stock, they will just get straight back up and begin.” He pulled a seat out and guided her to sit, then sat down next to her.  
“I would have thought they would need some time,” she murmered. “Does everybody know what they are going back to?”  
He shrugged. “I assume the husbands will not lie to their wives. They will tell it as it is.”  
Gandalf took a drink of his herbal tea as he reclaimed his chair. “I will return with them to Lake Town, and I hear Lord Dain will have some input.”  
Thranduil thought this over. “I will arrange for reinforcements from here also,” he said. “With combined efforts, the town should be able to be rebuilt back to the way it was, or better.”  
“That is a very generous offer, my friend,” Gandalf noted. “Considering what you did to help prevent this. I am sure your armies would appreciate a break though; let Bard and Dain make a head start before sending them along. Dain is closer, geographically.”  
He nodded, handing a slice of toast to Ava, who eyed it warily. He raised an eyebrow, silently insisting she take it, so she accepted it with a sigh.  
“You must eat, Ava my dear,” the wizard commented.  
“I already have him on my back,” she muttered, indicating Thranduil with her elbow.  
“And quite rightly so. As your husband, he has a right to worry about you and cajole you into taking care of yourself.”  
“Do not give him encouragement,” she said dryly, but her eyes held a sparkle of humour. “So...what do you plan on doing today?” Her attention turned to Thranduil.  
“I have to go round everyone, find out who is going ahead with returning to Lake Town and when, and sort out for those left behind to be provided for,” he replied. “Also there are still a lot of wounded who need to be tended to, on all sides.”  
She nodded. “I can help with that,” she said, drifting off into a world of her own.  
A world where she rode Belan, the two of them running free through the forest, the sun beating down on them. Lush green foliage all around them, nature springing to her fullest with flowers blooming and wildlife all around. She could almost feel the horse beneath her, her strong legs leaping over trees and streams, her muscles rippling and tensing as she executed a safe landing for her mistress every time. The soft thud of her hooves landing on the grassy turf.  
A warm hand caressing her thigh snapped her back to reality, and she turned to find Thranduil watching her steadily.  
_She is in no pain. Let her go, Nin mel _, he said silently.__  
She inhaled deeply, shutting her thoughts off. Flashing him a forced smile, she turned her attention to the toast in front of her.  
He continued to watch her for a few seconds, making sure she was alright and not going to fall apart. Catching Gandalf’s worried glance, he turned to his breakfast.  
*****

____

 

Ava was drunk.  
Rip-roaring, paralytic drunk.  
The wine flowed far too easily through the evening after a long, fraught day where emotions had run high and she felt that not a lot had been achieved.  
Flipping one knee across the other, she pointed accusingly at Legolas. “Any time, mister,” she said.  
He threw his head back and laughed. “On swords, yes, but not archery. Sorry Ava, you would not stand a chance,” he laughed.  
She pffft’d in disgust. “Maybe not right now, but on a different day,” she said. “I shall demonstrate come tomorrow.”  
“Come tomorrow you will not feel like competing,” he told her as he took a hearty swallow from his goblet. “You will have a sore head and feel sick, I promise.”  
“Ha,” she snorted, and reached for the pitcher. “That reminds me...a certain hairy-faced wizard told me you were getting cosy with an elf the night of my wedding...how did that go?”  
He started to choke, turning red in the process. “Um...we had an enjoyable evening,” he replied, amusement filling his eyes as well as embarrassment.  
“And that’s it?” she roared. “Good grief...only one end of the palace rocked that night then.”  
Legolas leaned forwards, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “I would not go as far as that,” he said. “From what I hear, Nardual finally confessed his feelings to his intended.”  
Her eyes went wide. “And?!” she demanded, slamming her wine down onto the table beside her. “What happened?!”  
“I do not know,” he laughed. “I was not there, thank goodness.”  
“Oh my god you are useless,” she huffed. “Half a story. I shall have to find him and find out...the dirty little stop-out.”  
“I thought you and my father were encouraging the relationship?” he asked.  
“Yes, which is why I want to know how things are progressing,” she said, slurring her s’s. “Nardual is a good man, he deserves to be happy.”  
“I am sure he will be,” he told her. “I have passed him a couple of times since the wedding, and he has a secretive little smile each time.”  
She picked her wine back up and leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her face. “And speaking of hot, sweaty sex...” she murmered, her gaze wandering.  
Legolas turned, and shook his head. “Ava!” he chastised. “That is my father, remember?”  
She grinned. “And thank god he is not mine,” she said with a devilish tone. She watched as Thranduil approached, weaving his way amongst elves and humans.  
He had spotted her as soon as he had entered the hall, her cheeks flushed pink. He didn’t know how much wine she had consumed, but he guessed it was more than usual.  
She held him in a predator-like gaze as he neared her, so he guessed she had drunk a lot.  
“Legolas,” he greeted his son. “Ava...” He dropped a kiss onto her mouth, sizing up for himself just how drunk she was.  
“How are you, my sexy husband?” she smiled.  
He bit his lip trying to hide a smile. “I am a little better than you, I think,” he noted. He checked the goblet she held. “Hmm. Almost empty.”  
“With another on the way,” she said decidedly, snapping her fingers at the passing servant and taking another glass from his tray.  
Thranduil swiftly took it from her and handed it to his son. “I think you have had enough,” he said.  
“Nonsense. Sit down and relax a little,” she advised, swiping the goblet from Legolas’s hand. “We are concerned, you have not stopped all day.”  
Legolas raised his eyebrows. “We are?”  
“We are,” she told him, booting him on the shin.  
He settled his weight onto a seat next to her, taking the wine from her and sipping it himself. Sweet and fruity, it flowed over his tongue like nectar. “Just how many have you had?” he asked his wife.  
“At least five,” Legolas answered before she could reply.  
“Your backside,” she slurred, taking the goblet back and almost emptying it. “Six, I think.”  
Thranduil rolled his eyes, knowing he had a hard job before him trying to get her to settle for the night. “Maybe that should be your last, otherwise you will be unwell tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow might never come,” she said philosophically, draining the last of her wine. “I am a little hungry.”  
“Then let us retire for the night,” he suggested, setting her empty goblet down and taking her hand. She rose to her feet, holding on to his chest as she stood.  
“Goodnight father, Ava,” Legolas grinned, and got up to wander over to where some of his friends were gathered.  
Ava stood up on her toes and kissed Thranduil. “Damn...you are gorgeous,” she said.  
He smirked. “And you my love, are drunk.”  
She shrugged. “Feed me.”  
Shaking his head and trying not to laugh, he guided her out of the hall and through the mass of corridors, one arm securely around her as she staggered a little.  
She was giggling and laughing by the time they reached their room, and collapsed backwards down onto the bed, pulling him down with her.  
“Just how did you get to be so gorgeous?” she murmered, running her hands through his hair. “Nobody should be able to look this good.” She had forgotten all about food.  
He smiled. “I wonder if you shall remember this come sunrise,” he said.  
“Make love to me,” she said suddenly, all humour gone from her eyes.  
“No.”  
“What?” She sat up and pushed him away.  
He shook his head. “Not while you are like this, _Nin mel _.”__  
Her eyebrows came down in a frown. “Am I not attractive to you anymore?”  
“Of course you are, my darling. But you are drunk,” he said.  
She pulled him closer, kissing the soft flesh of his neck. “I need you...”  
“Not just now,” he told her, moving himself back a little. “Tomorrow, by all means. But not right now. Trust me.”  
She stared at him. “You do not love me anymore,” she murmered.  
“Give me strength,” he muttered. “Yes I do, I love you more than anything, which is why I am not going to touch you right now. Get some sleep.”  
Confused blue eyes held his.  
Leaning towards her, he kissed her cheek with such tenderness, it brought a lump to her throat.  
Heaving a deep sigh, she allowed him to gently push her down so she was lying on her side, and the last thing she remembered was the softness of his cloak as he wrapped it around her.


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX 

 

Ava groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket up over her head.  
Thranduil laughed. “I did not think you would be so merry come this morning,” he said, rubbing her back through the bedding.  
She grunted, peering out at him. “My head hurts,” she moaned.  
“I am not surprised,” he told her, and handed her a cup of water. “Drink this. You are dehydrated from last night.”  
She struggled to sit up, taking the cup from him. “How long have you been awake?” she asked. He sat on the bed fully clothed, and looked amazing.  
“A little while,” he replied. “I thought I would let you sleep until you were ready to get up.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Do you remember last night?”  
“I remember you took my wine away,” she said. She took some of the water and held her head. “Why?”  
One eyebrow lifted as the smile grew. “You accused me of not loving you anymore because I would not make love to you.”  
She groaned, resting her head on her drawn-up knees. “Do not tell me anymore.”  
He laughed as he stood up. “You will feel more like yourself once you have freshened up,” he told her. “I shall go and tell Faron to make you a cooked breakfast.”  
“Nooooo, I could not stomach it,” she said.  
“You need nutrients,” he said.  
“I need more sleep,” she corrected.  
“No you do not,” he said, pulling her out of the bed. “Leave the blankets, they are not going to bathe.”  
Despite her protests, she grudgingly allowed him to disentangle her from the blankets she had dragged off the bed, and lead her to the rock pool, where he gently undressed her and helped her into the water. He touched the side of her face with one finger.  
“Will you be alright for a few moments?” he asked, concern in his ice blue eyes.  
“Yes,” she said.  
“I will be back soon. I am just going to the kitchens. Do you need anything brought back?”  
She shook her head, wincing at the pain that shot through her skull. “No, I am alright.”  
He gazed at her for a few seconds, before dropping a soft kiss on her head and leaving the room.  
She sighed, sinking deeper into the water. Fragments of the previous night drifted back to her, questions she had thrown at Legolas regarding the elf he had been with the night of her wedding, and trying to get Thranduil in a naughty mood. Her cheeks tinged pink as she remembered his refusal, and she groaned aloud.  
Quickly washing herself, she climbed out of the pool and dried off, before choosing a dress that was blush pink in colour, getting darker as it neared the hemline, which floated softly around her feet.  
Thranduil came back in as she was brushing her hair. “You look much better,” he said in approval as he took the brush from her and began doing her hair. Long, slow strokes relaxed her and she closed her eyes.  
“I feel a little better,” she said, then turned to face him. “I think I owe you an apology.” Deep blue eyes met his.  
“Why?” he asked, a slight frown coming down over his eyes.  
“I remember bits and pieces from last night, and I think I may have been a bit bitchy,” she admitted.  
He laughed, shaking his head. “No, you were just a little insistent that I take advantage of you,” he said. “I declined, not because I do not find you attractive, as you said, but because you were very drunk and it would not have been right for me to comply.”  
She blushed again. “I should not have put you in that position,” she said. “Forgive me?”  
He smiled, leaning down and touching his mouth to hers in a soft butterfly kiss. “There is nothing to forgive,” he murmered. “I thought it was quite comical.”  
She chased his mouth as he pulled away, murmering in pleasure as his soft flesh met hers once more. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer. She twisted her head, deepening the kiss, as a low rumble sounded from him.  
“And you thought I find you unattractive,” he murmered, gripping her hips and rocking against her. “Surely this proves otherwise, after only a kiss?”  
She smiled, one hand dropping and dipping in between them.  
“Your breakfast is being prepared,” he whispered, feathering tiny little kisses down her neck and along her shoulder.  
“It can wait,” she replied. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the touch of his mouth on her skin.  
He groaned and pushed against her hand as she caressed him through his trousers, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back as he kissed his way back up to her mouth. Warm hands lifted the skirts of her dress, caressing and teasing her thighs. She instinctively lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, angling herself closer to what she wanted. Before she knew it, he had undone his trousers and lifted her off the floor, carrying her back to the bed.  
“I thought you would be hungry,” he panted, settling between her thighs.  
“I am,” she replied, lifting her hips as he nudged her entrance. “But not for food. I am hungry for you.”  
He held her gaze as he slowly pushed into her, and she found herself drowning in the blue ice that held her prisoner. Her mouth opened and she gasped as he pushed all the way in.  
“So hot, so wet,” he whispered.  
“Only for you,” she whispered back.  
He slowly started to move, long, slow strokes which made her arch up off the bed and closer in his arms. Searching for his mouth, she kissed him with growing passion as he began to move a little faster.  
“More, my love,” she gasped.  
He grinned into her kiss, pushing deeper.  
A loud banging on the door interrupted them causing him to freeze, and he cursed loudly in Sindarin.  
The banging continued.  
Reluctantly, he pulled out of her and pushed himself to his feet, thunder in his eyes. Ava quickly pulled her dress back into place and crossed to the other side of the room, resuming brushing her hair. Frustration and annoyance flooded through her.  
Thranduil quickly pulled his trousers back into place and tugged his cloak around him to hide the evidence of what they had been doing, as he threw open the door.  
Two of his guards stood, worry etched on their faces.  
“My Lord,” one of them said. “We are sorry to intrude, but three of our guards have passed away in the last half hour.”  
He closed his eyes, fighting the shock to his system of being interrupted, and the sadness that washed over him.  
Turning to Ava, he saw the same sadness in her eyes. “I have to go,” he said softly.  
She nodded. “Go.” She watched him depart, her heart tugged in all directions. Sex could wait. The families left behind needed him.  
*****

 

Thanking Faron, Ava left the kitchens, a small pile of wrapped sandwiches in her hands. Thranduil wouldn’t have stopped for anything to eat, she knew he would have gone straight to the guards’ families to support them.  
She made her way through the palace and across the courtyard to the village, passing several downcast guards along the way, exchanging small nods of acknowledgment.  
She stopped, her breath catching in her throat.  
Thranduil was on his knees, his arms around a young child who was sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder. The child clung to him, breaking her heart as she came to terms with the fact that she would never see her father again. Thranduil held her tightly, his hands gently rubbing her back as he tried to offer comfort.  
The fallen guard’s wife stood to one side, tears streaming silently down her face. Ava crossed to her, wrapping her arms around her, and the woman collapsed in grief in her arms.  
She sank to the ground with her, murmering soft words as she poured out her anguish. Grief pierced her own heart; sympathy for the widow she held in her arms, and the realisation that she was the lucky one.  
Her husband had come home.  
Her eyes lifted and met his, and she knew he was thinking the same. So many of his soldiers hadn’t returned, many left behind in Lake Town in graves that should never have been dug.  
Tears filled his eyes and he looked away, concentrating on comforting the child he held.  
*****

 

Ava stopped at the stable doors, leaning an elbow on the lower part of the door.  
Belroch lifted his head and watched her, not approaching.  
She stayed still, wondering if the horse would come to her, then held a hand out.  
He looked at her hand, then back at her, before slowly walking towards her. He dropped his head as he approached, nuzzling her hand with his velvet nose.  
Grief ripped through her as her gaze went over to where Belan should be, seeing only an empty stall. Pain sliced through her heart, remembering the horse and the unbreakable bond they had shared.  
That bond had now been broken by death, and would never be mended.  
She lowered her head, silent tears pouring down her face. Taking a deep shuddering breath, she sank her teeth into her lower lip, trying to come to terms with her own loss.  
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her back against a solid chest. She gave in to her grief, the loving contact breaking through the wall she had desperately been trying to erect around herself. Her shoulders shook as she withdrew her hand from Belroch and turned in Thranduil’s arms. He pulled her tightly against him, his arms crossed over her back, but he stayed silent.  
She felt like the pain would never go, and the suffering would never end. Belan had died because she had made the choice to take her into battle, and she wasn’t coming back.  
Ever.  
“It is not your fault, my love,” he whispered. “You are wrong to blame yourself.”  
She pulled back and gazed at him through her tears, amazed at how he seemed to know her thoughts.  
“I told you, if you had not gone to Lake Town, maybe I would not be here,” he reminded her softly. “War has no winners, the losses are always too great. Everybody loses.”  
She wiped her face with her hands, shaking her head. “I should never have taken her,” she said brokenly. “I should have taken another horse. Any one, but Belan.”  
“She protected you, she served you well,” he told her. “That was what she did, it was her purpose.”  
“No it was not,” she said. “No animal should live their life to serve someone.”  
He tenderly caressed her face, knowing her grief was too raw to rationalise with. “Have you eaten?”  
“No,” she replied. “I have no appetite.”  
Taking a deep breath, he took her hand and led her away from the stables. Instead of going back inside the palace, he led her through to the gardens, which seemed brighter in colour after a light shower of rain. They walked hand in hand, not saying anything, just comfortable being with one another.  
“You know you have to move on,” he said eventually, after they had been walking a long time.  
She nodded, her eyes on the grass as they walked. The hem of her dress was soaking wet, but she didn’t care. “I know. It’s too soon though, too soon for me.”  
“I know, my love. But at some point you are going to have to let her go,” he said. “We have all lost someone or something, and it is not easy, but the only way is forward.”  
She sighed softly. “I know this,” she admitted. “It just hurts so much seeing her stall where she should be, seeing Belroch and I know he blames me-“  
“No he does not,” he interrupted. “The only one blaming you is you yourself. No-one else. Certainly not me.”  
“You should though,” she said. “We did fight about me going before you left.”  
He stopped, pulling on her hand and turning her to face him. “I know deep within my heart that no matter what I say, or ask, or order, you will find a way to outsmart me and turn up wherever I am,” he told her. “I just have to accept that. I do not need to be happy with it, and I certainly am not, but unless I put you in the dungeons there is not much else I can do, is there?”  
Her eyes flashed fire as he mentioned the dungeons.  
“I am so serious Thranduil,” she said. “If you ever-“  
“I promised I would not, therefore I will not,” he interrupted her again. “And I do not go back on my promises. I would not do that to you. And besides, my life would be hell once I came back if I tried that.” A small smirk hovered around his mouth, and she glared at him.  
“It is not a laughing matter,” she said. “I took down at least two hundred orcs, that was two hundred less for you to face.”  
“Yes my love, and I appreciate that,” he said. “I also took out several who were within an inch of you without you even knowing they were there, or I, for that matter.”  
She took a deep breath. “Where does this leave us?” she asked, squinting against the bright sunlight to look up at him.  
“In what manner?” he asked.  
“We cannot agree on this matter, and it will arise again,” she said.  
Ice blue eyes gazed into hers, and a long silence followed. “I do not know what the answer is,” he admitted, turning to walk again. She fell in step beside him, still holding his hand. “I want to keep you safe and protect you, and you want to do the same with me. Neither of us can win.”  
“Maybe you should just agree that I am right,” she quipped, drawing a smile from him.  
“On some things my darling, yes, you are right. But not everything.”  
She hmmph’d. “You know I will always be at your side, with or without your consent.”  
His eyes met hers again as he glanced down at her. “I know. Maybe it is just something I will have to expect and tolerate.”  
“Maybe you should just take me along in the first place,” she suggested. “That would save us fighting, save any bad feeling, and you would know exactly where I am at all times. I would know you were safe, and I would not be so worried.” An innocent smile accompanied her words.  
He stopped again, trying to glare at her but failing miserably. “You know, you have the horns of the devil,” he said.  
She nodded. “I know.” Another self-satisfied smile. “You have to admit, my logic makes perfect sense.”  
“To a point,” he agreed grudgingly.  
“That is because I am right.”  
“Do not push your luck,” he warned dryly, making her grin. “You will be the death of me...you can get around me on any subject.”  
“Not last night, I could not,” she said.  
He laughed, pulling her to him and framing her face with his large hands. “I told you _Nin mel _, you were drunk,” he said as he kissed her. “And I will not take advantage of you when you are drunk.”__  
She murmered in protest as he pulled back a little. “I am not drunk now, nor will I be later.”  
“Then I shall take the opportunity later to prove that I find you desirable,” he whispered, his mouth brushing her ear as he leaned towards her again. “I shall leave no room for doubt, and that is a promise.”  
She smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I love you so much,” she whispered against his neck.  
“I love you too,” he replied. “Are you alright?” His words held a tone of concern.  
“Yes,” she said. “It’s just...when I think about all the families who have lost husbands, fathers, sons, brothers...I am so lucky because you came home.”  
“I always will,” he assured her. “That is something else I promise. I will always come home.”  
“But you cannot promise something like that,” she reasoned. “You never know what is going to happen during a battle. Nobody does.”  
“Have I not always returned, all these years, until now?” he asked. “Why should it be any different now?”  
“Years ago, I was not here, head-over-heels in love with you, desperate for you to return home,” she replied.  
“Then this is all the more reason for me to make sure I do return,” he said, pulling back and smiling at her. “If you are not a reason to come home, then I have nothing else.”  
“The ones we lost had good reason to come home,” she pointed out. “But I understand what you are saying.”  
“Nothing will ever come between us, Ava, believe me on that,” he said softly. “I have waited centuries for you. I am not about to be parted from you after all this time, you have my word.”  
She closed her eyes and leaned back into his embrace, taking comfort from the strong heartbeat next to her ear, the strong arms around her, and the tender kiss he placed on top of her head. Maybe everything would right itself eventually.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN 

 

Ava crept along the corridor, thankful she made no noise in her bare feet. The stone floor was icy cold against her soles, but she paid it no attention. Pulling her mouth in as she took stealthy, silent steps, she edged closer to her target. Bursting into a run, she shot down the long hallway and jumped, landing on Thranduil’s back, screaming and laughing.  
“What are you doing, you mad woman?” he laughed, placing his arms under her knees and lifting them around his waist.  
“I want my King to carry me to our bed and ravish me,” she laughed, biting gently at his neck just below his ear. “I want him to completely devour me.”  
She could feel him shaking with laughter as he carried her further along the hallway.   
“Then as your King, I really should fulfil your request,” he said.  
Her arms tightened around his neck. “I have been waiting all day to get you alone,” she said into his hair. “To slowly take your clothes off, to kiss you and lick you, to touch you...”  
His sharp intake of breath made her grin. She was getting somewhere.  
He turned into the corridor that led to their bedroom. “No interruptions,” he snapped at the guard who stood at the far end of the hallway.  
Ava started to giggle as he carried her inside the room, slamming the door closed and locking it. She slid from his back, letting her legs slide down his as her feet touched the floor. He turned, and her hands went straight to his collar.  
“This has to come off,” she murmered against his mouth as he crushed his against hers. “Too many clothes.”  
Pulling it from him, her breath left her with a soft whoosh as her hands touched hard, warm flesh. She tore her mouth from his and kissed her way down his neck, her hands everywhere.  
“Someone certainly has got something on her lusty little mind,” he said, closing his eyes as her hands trailed down his flat stomach to his waistband.  
“Mm-hmm,” she agreed. “And I need to share it.” She flashed a grin up at him, sinking to her knees.  
He leaned his head back against the door as she pushed his trousers down, freeing him from the restraints. His eyes closed of their own accord as he felt her kiss lower down his stomach, both hands already working on him. “Then by all means, please share,” he gasped, her mouth closing around him.   
Settling herself into a more comfortable position, she closed her eyes and concentrated on what she was doing. He jerked spasmodically as she wound her tongue around his tip before taking him as far back as he could go. Her fingertips trailed lightly over his upper thighs, the muscles there tense and trembling beneath her feather-like touch. He exhaled through clenched teeth as her hands curled between his legs, taking the weight of his sac and gently caressing it.  
Twisting his hands in her hair, he dragged her to her feet, kissing her with demanding force. Her hands swept up his upper arms and locked at the back of his neck as his tongue pushed insistently into her mouth.  
Nudging his thigh between hers, he gripped her hips and rocked her pelvis against his, making her groan from the depths of her soul.  
The intimate touch wasn’t enough.  
Walking backwards without breaking the kiss, he led her towards the bed, falling down onto the soft blankets with her astride him. His fingers dug into the soft flesh at her hips as she rocked suggestively against him, guiding her movements. She twisted and turned her head, deepening the kiss as he fought to free her from her dress. Lifting it up over her shoulders, he inhaled deeply as he tossed it carelessly on the floor.  
“Perfect,” he whispered, sitting up with her, and leaning down to take her left nipple in his mouth.   
She cried out and bucked against him, tangling her hands in his long hair. Need coursed through her blood, setting fire to every nerve ending she possessed.  
Flipping her over, he towered above her as he kicked his clothing the rest of the way off, interlocking his fingers with hers as he nudged at her entrance.  
“Please, Thranduil,” she whimpered, lifting her hips and encouraging him.   
A ghost of a smile hovered around his full mouth, but disappeared as he pushed his tip inside her. She gasped, her head rolling to one side. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he pushed in a little further.  
“Look at me,” he whispered.  
Focusing on his ice blue eyes, she concentrated on breathing as her body adjusted to fit his, and she felt him push in a little more.   
So, so slow, so excruciatingly slow.   
“More babe, more,” she begged, helpless under the spell of those blue eyes.  
His nostrils flared as he pushed in further, determined to take his time and draw it out for both of them. He gripped her fingers hard in response to her flexing hers, his body trembling with the effort of trying to take it slowly.   
She flipped her legs up around his waist and crossed her feet at his back, tugging him all the way in, both of them crying out as he sunk in to the hilt.  
He held her gaze as he slowly started to move, his hips pumping in a seductive rhythm. Her body responded, matching his movements and keeping pace with him.   
“You have turned my life upside down,” he panted.  
His lips crushed hers before she could reply, his tongue demanding entrance which she allowed. He released her hands and wound his fists in her hair, kissing her with a bruising passion as his movements gathered momentum and depth. Her hands swept along his shoulders, down his back, and back up again, aware of every muscle that twitched under her touch. Pulling her knees higher, they again both moaned in synchronisation at the change in depth as he pounded hard against her cervix.  
“Don’t stop, babe,” she pleaded against his mouth. “Oh my God...don’t stop.”  
“I won’t,” he promised, licking and sucking on her lower lip.  
The pleasure mounted, with blasts of lightning shooting across her abdomen and gathering between her legs. She arched up off the bed clutching him, his mouth wandering down her neck. Her eyes rolled back as he sucked hard on her flesh, feeling the bruise begin to form. Her cries were lost in the heat that surrounded them, reality swirling away into the distance.  
He gyrated his hips, pushing into her at a different angle, and felt her body change in response. “You like that?” he murmered against her neck.  
“Mm-hmm,” she whimpered, flexing her knees. She turned her head and kissed his neck, feeling the pressure between her legs building. He moaned deep in his throat as she sunk her teeth into his flesh, aware that he was coming apart rapidly. Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he tried to slow down, determined she was going to reach her peak first. She seemed to sense his thoughts, and flexed her inner muscles.  
Her body tensed, every muscle tightened to snapping point and every nerve ending on full alert. Every miniscule movement he made sent her closer to the edge, her body was so responsive to his. She panted hard, her muscles tightening even further.  
He dragged his lips back to hers, his fists still tangled in her hair. Her body bucked wildly under him as she hit her climax, and she cried and howled against his mouth. Throwing finesse and style out of the window, he thrust harder and chased his own completion. Two or three thrusts and he was right behind her, the stars seeming to burst wildly around them as he exploded inside her.  
His head dropped forwards onto her shoulder and he panted in exertion, trying to regulate his heartbeat and his breathing. Ava was breathing hard; her entire mind, body, and spirit had been thrown into turmoil by what they’d just done to each other. The seconds ticked past into minutes, and gradually their bodies relaxed and cooled down to a normal temperature.  
Thranduil eventually lifted his head and smiled as he gazed at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, swollen from the passion and the heat of their kisses. Her breathing was slow and steady, and he guessed she was just touching sleep.  
Carefully pulling out of her, he shifted to one side, taking her with him and wrapping his arm around her. She snuffled softly in her dream-like state and settled her head on his chest, vaguely aware of the rapid beat of his heart next to her ear.  
***** 

 

Ava murmered sleepily, rolling over and burying her face against Thranduil’s neck. His warm lips moved over shoulder, gently sucking and biting. She gradually gained consciousness, lifting her hand and running it through his long blond hair.  
“Good morning, husband,” she said, her voice thick with sleep.  
“Good morning, wife,” he replied, lifting his head and smiling at her. “Did you sleep well?”  
She nodded, a satisfied smile curving her mouth. “I did. You?”  
“When you are in my arms, always,” he replied. “However, duty calls, I am afraid.”  
She nodded, letting the ends of his hair trail through her fingers as he pushed himself up to stand. “Reality always comes calling,” she commented.  
He lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “I may have to skip breakfast,” he said, lifting his clothing which had been thrown in all directions the previous night.  
A mischievous grin spread across her face as she watched him search for various items. “Over there,” she said, pointing towards the door as he hunted for one of his boots. “I will catch Gandalf for breakfast.”  
“Make sure you do eat something,” he instructed her.  
“Yes, my King,” she quipped, lifting her mouth for his kiss, which he dutifully delivered. Her eyes closed as the soft warmth of his mouth caressed hers.  
“So...do you still think I find you unattractive?” he teased, pulling back a little. A sparkle of mischief flashed in his eyes.  
“Maybe a little,” she replied, trailing a hand down over his chest. “You may have to work on that later.”  
He snorted softly with laughter, tugging his boots on. “Just make sure you have something to eat,” he repeated. “Hopefully I will see you through the day at some point.” A final kiss brushed her mouth, and he left.  
Ava gazed at the closed bedroom door for a few minutes, then bounced out of bed.  
*****

 

Finding Gandalf and talking him into agreeing with her seemed like a mission impossible, but with some persistence and hopeful smiles, Ava’s charm won and by mid-morning they were on horseback, heading away from the palace.   
Two guards accompanied them, riding a few paces behind them.  
“I am sure you know what you’re doing, my dear,” Gandalf said as they rode along.  
She smiled. “I think so. Maybe I can take an angle that hasn’t been discussed previously,” she said. “All I can do is try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”  
“I suppose that makes sense,” he agreed. “Although what your husband is going to have to say about it is debatable. You know that, don’t you?”  
She nodded. “I’m not doing anything dangerous, and if I can take some of the stress from his shoulders, then that has to be a good thing,” she said.  
He hmmmph’d at her side, keeping his thoughts to himself. Knowing how headstrong she was, and how determined the King was, he could see two ways of this ending. Either in a good way, or in an exchange of screaming and shouting.  
Hopefully not the latter.  
After travelling for some time, they finally arrived at their destination, and Ava slid off her horse.  
“I am here to seek council with Aimon and Druindar,” she said to the guards at the gate of the heavily guarded palace.  
They eyed her with trepidation, before allowing her to enter. Gandalf followed with their own two guards, eyeing his surroundings warily. Ava casually walked her horse onwards, not seeming out of place in the slightest. The wizard silently admired her courage and strong will.  
“Queen Ava, it is a pleasure to meet you at last,” a tall, regal elf announced as he appeared down a long flight of steps to greet her. Taking her hand, he kissed it, while keeping his eye on her.  
She smiled. “A pleasure I share,” she replied. “Thankyou for seeing us.”  
He inhaled deeply, sizing her up in his calculating mind. “My messenger informs me you seek council regarding current negotiations.”  
“Yes,” she said.   
Hazel eyes watched her every move. “Druindar has not long arrived. Let me introduce you to him, then we will talk.”  
“Of course,” she said, glancing at Gandalf.   
“Mithrandir,” the elf acknowledged him.  
“Aimon,” he returned.  
Leaving the horses with the palace guards, the five of them entered the palace, where Ava absorbed everything around her. Lavish decor, expensive furnishings, tasteful art.  
She kept her thoughts to herself. Her own home was more in line with the natural environment, and she found it more peaceful and comfortable. The palace in which she now walked seemed false and full of pretence.  
“Druindar, Queen Ava, and Mithrandir,” Aimon made the introductions as an equally tall, dark-haired elf turned when they entered a large hall.  
She was aware of his eyes assessing her from head to foot and back again, as he stepped forward to take her hand and place a kiss on it.  
“Somehow it seems like this journey is worth it already,” he said, a silky purr to his words.  
“I would hope so,” she replied. “It is not a journey I made lightly.”  
Dark brown eyes searched hers, and she returned his gaze, not fazed in the slightest. The ice in Thranduil’s eyes had given her the strength to outstare the devil if she had to.  
“Can I offer you some wine?” Aimon asked, leading them to an expensive table with intricate gold patterns inlaid below the lacquered surface.  
“No thankyou,” she replied. “Mithrandir?”  
“No, I am fine, thankyou,” he replied. “Better a clear head when travelling.”  
“I agree,” Druindar murmered, his eyes still on Ava. “So...to what do we owe this pleasure, my dear?”  
She lowered herself onto the chair Gandalf had pulled out for her, smoothing the skirts of her dress as she sat. “There are urgent matters which need to be addressed, and cannot be delayed further,” she replied. “I understand King Thranduil has already spoken to both of you on these matters, and no solution has yet been reached.”  
The two elves glanced at each other.  
“You speak of the oncoming war,” Druindar said.  
“Yes.”  
He traced a pattern on the table with his finger, watching her like a predator. “The war is prevalent,” he told her. “I do not foresee anything which can stop it at this stage.”  
“I disagree,” she counteracted. “There is always a solution, always an answer. If death and destruction are what you seek in your heart, then maybe I am wrong, but I do not believe that is the result you are seeking.”  
Gandalf’s gaze flicked between them.  
Ava was in control, and the elf she faced wasn’t used to relinquishing control, particularly not to a female.  
“There is much to be gained,” Druindar said after a pause.  
“And much to be lost,” she answered. Withdrawing a rolled parchment from the folds of her cloak, she opened it and spread it on the table between them. “I do not see anything untoward regarding these suggestions.”  
Aimon remained standing at the head of the table, watching as he sipped from an ornate goblet, but so far staying quiet.  
Druindar eyed the document. “These suggestions have already been brought forward by your husband,” he said.  
She smiled. “I am aware. I am also aware that both of you refused to compromise, or to discuss any of the suggestions. Can either of you enlighter me further?”  
Aimon sighed. “We are the only two from both sides who can stand to be in the same room,” he said. “We have a long history which goes back centuries. Our councils and armies are dead set on war.”  
“They tell you how to rule?” she asked, a sharp bite to her tone as she turned blue eyes towards his. “I am mistaken...I assumed I was meeting with the rulers of these lands.”  
Aimon’s face tinged pink.  
“It is not as simple as that, lovely lady,” Druindar said smoothly. “There are vast lands to be gained, many riches, many titles.”  
Ava leaned forwards, leaning her forearms on the table in front of her. “Can you honestly place greed at a higher value than the lives of your soldiers? Your people?” she asked.  
Aimon’s eyes briefly met Gandalf’s, before he quickly looked away again. The wizard knew Ava had mentally assessed both rulers, choosing to lock horns with the more unreasonable of the two, knowing if she won him over then the future would be set.  
“Every elf ruler needs power and wealth,” Druindar told her. “You should know that...your husband is a prime example.”  
“My husband does not rush foolishly into a war which can be avoided,” she pointed out. “He does not needlessly put lives at risk for wealth or status.”  
“I have to agree with this,” Aimon said quietly. “I heard about the recent battle.”  
Ava nodded. “Then you also heard about the devastating losses we had,” she said, lifting her eyes to him.   
He stayed quiet.  
“I would like to know what you would propose that would settle the differences between the two lands, something which your husband could not,” Druindar purred thoughtfully.  
Ava let his words hang in the air for a few minutes.  
“I will endorse the trade agreement,” she said eventually. She had already decided hours before that she would do this, but the elf sitting across from her trying to charm his way into her pants didn’t need to know that. “I will also lift the passage sanctions on the east border.”  
His eyes showed his surprise. He tilted his head, wondering what she was up to. “Just like that?”  
“If you agree to a peace treaty,” she replied.  
The two elves glanced at each other, and Aimon shrugged.  
Druindar leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “And how do you know we will abide by the treaty?”  
Thunder flashed in her eyes. “If you do not, then I will personally lead an attack on you and your land,” she shot back.”And I do not bow to defeat.”  
Gandalf smirked behind his whiskers. She had nerves of steel.  
Aimon set his goblet down. “I know myself that King Thranduil is formidable in war,” he said. “And I have heard how you handle yourself in battle.” He paused. “If I may speak my mind, I do not wish to encounter both of you on a battlefield.”  
“No, you do not,” she replied. “But I see your counterpart here does not share your thoughts.” Her blue eyes turned to Druindar, who was still watching her intently.  
“Let us discuss this while you have refreshments,” the other elf said decidedly, rising from his chair. “If you will excuse us?”  
She tilted her head in acknowledgement, catching Gandalf’s eye as they both left the room.  
“I hope you know what you are doing,” he said solemnly.  
“So do I,” she muttered.


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

 

Stretching her feet out under the table, Ava sighed.  
The two elves, Aimon and Druindar, seemed to be taking a long time in coming to a decision, and she was already thinking of curling up in bed and falling asleep.  
Gandalf wandered around the room, studying the lavish decoration but keeping his thoughts private.  
Ava too, sat in silence.  
Eventually the doors opened and both men came back into the hall, Druindar reclaiming his seat and Aimon resuming his position standing at the end of the table.  
“We can see no problem if the trade agreements and the sanctions are approved,” Druindar said. “However...will King Thranduil agree to this?”  
“He already has,” she lied. “We have discussed this previously.”  
A silence settled over the room.  
“I see no reason why we cannot agree to these terms,” Aimon said finally. “I am willing to sign the peace treaty.”  
Ava’s eyebrows lifted towards Druindar, waiting for his response.  
“I watched my husband take a child in his arms,” she said softly. “A child who was breaking her heart because her father is never coming home. A child who’s life is destroyed forever because of the greed of others. A child who will never know what it is like to have her father take her to school, to wait up for her when she is late home, to help her prepare for her wedding, to hold his first grandchild. A child who will forever live in mourning for memories which will gradually fade over time, until she can no longer recall what he looks like. If that is what you want to have to deal with, then by all means, go to war. I would think hard about this.”   
Her words seemed to hit home to the elf who sat across from her. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said after hesitating.  
“I tell it like it is,” she corrected. “What you choose to do with the truth is up to you.”  
He sighed. “I will sign the treaty.”  
Gandalf couldn’t believe his ears. He knew Thranduil had spent hours locked in negotiations with the same pair, and come away with no result.   
Ava produced a second parchment, sliding it across the table. She watched as both Druindar and Aimon signed it, returning it to her.  
“You have a way with negotiating,” Aimon told her with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps your husband would do well to let you handle more of his affairs.”  
“My husband is more than capable,” she replied, tucking the signed document back into her cloak. “I however, have a more prosaic approach. Whichever one of us negotiates depends on who we are negotiating with.”  
“Give the King my regards,” Druindar said. “And my congratulations on having such a beautiful, persuasive wife.” His lips curled into more of a leer than a smile as he spoke.  
She smiled back, hers holding an unspoken warning. “I certainly shall.”  
“I will accompany you to your horses,” Aimon said, as she and Gandalf rose to their feet.  
“My lady,” Druindar said, taking her hand and kissing it. His lips lingered a second or two too long, before she withdrew her hand.  
Saying nothing, she turned away and followed Aimon from the hall.  
“Well...” he said as they walked along the corridor. “I have to say Queen Ava, I am surprised.”  
“In what way?” she asked.  
He stopped. “I do not want this war, I never did. King Thranduil knew this. Druindar has been unreasonable with his demands, and we could not talk him round. Yet in such a short time, you have managed it.” The walk resumed.  
She smiled. “It is amazing what being a female can accomplish,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.  
Aimon laughed, catching her by surprise. “That may have had something to do with it,” he admitted. “He always has had an eye for beautiful women.”  
“He is lucky he still has both eyes in his head,” she said, turning to him as they reached the horses. “Although if the King had been present, I sincerely doubt that would be the case.”  
The elf laughed. “And quite rightly so,” he said. “The King must protect what is his. May you be blessed with a safe journey home, Queen Ava. And may we be graced with your return in the future.”  
“Thankyou,” she said, as he kissed her hand in farewell.  
Hoisting herself up onto her horse, she nodded to the elf and turned away, Gandalf riding at her side with their guards behind them.  
Nobody spoke until they had left the grounds.  
“I must congratulate you, my dear,” the wizard said once they were out of earshot of the guards from the palace. “Although I do not know if Thranduil will share my sentiments.”  
“Maybe, maybe not,” she replied. “But the main thing is that no war will take place now. That was the ultimate goal, and we have reached it.”  
“That is a good thing in itself,” he agreed. “I sense an underlying darkness from Druindar though, a feeling I did not like.”  
“He was mentally undressing me,” she replied. “I could see his thoughts.”  
“Then he is lucky Thranduil was not present!” he said.  
“Very,” she agreed. “If I could see what he was thinking, then I am sure he would have also been able to. That would not have ended well. Although there would not have been a war to worry about, he would have taken his head off right there and then. Problem solved.”  
Gandalf chuckled heartily. “There is more than one way to peel a fruit,” he decided. “This way was the peaceful way. Speaking of peace, where does Thranduil think you are?”  
She shrugged. “He had a lot to do today, so maybe he does not even know I have gone,” she replied.   
“You seriously believe that?” he asked. “Your husband knows when you are near, I have seen it in his eyes. Before you even enter the same room, he has an awareness. He will know you are not in the palace.”  
She didn’t reply.  
*****

 

Thranduil watched his wife as she conversed with Legolas. She nodded, gesticulated with her hands as she talked, listening intently when his son spoke.  
Contented to observe her, he sat silently, ignoring the chatter of those around him. Elves loitered around, desperate for his attention, or caught up in their own conversations. His ice blue eyes met hers and she smiled, pausing in whatever she was saying. Legolas turned to see what had caught her attention, and a knowing smile graced his lips.   
Thranduil returned her smile.   
He knew what she had done.  
A short while later, he wandered out of the hall into the open gardens, the tranquillity of the dark air soothing him and clearing his mind. A cool breeze filtered past, lifting the ends of his hair and teasing them.   
“You seem quiet,” Ava said behind him.  
He turned, a welcoming smile lighting up his face. “I have been waiting for you to remember me,” he said with a touch of humour. “I missed you all day.”  
She stepped into his arms, tilting her mouth up to meet his, and was rewarded with a soft, gentle kiss. “I am sure you had enough to keep you busy,” she said. “You’re a busy man.”  
His blue eyes held her prisoner. “I heard you went riding with Mithrandir,” he said.  
She nodded, toying with the hair that hung over his shoulders, cascading down over his chest. “Yes. I decided it was time to get on another horse.”  
Sadness filled her eyes as she lifted her gaze to meet his, and he read the emotion in the blue depths. “That is a positive thing,” he said softly. “Taking that first step is always the hardest.” He wrapped her hand in his and they walked further into the gardens, the moon lighting up the secluded area.  
“What kept you occupied through the day?” she asked.  
He sighed. “Two more soldiers passed,” he said.  
“Oh no,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “It seems like this is never going to end. Death after death after death...when will it stop?”  
He stopped, turning to face her. The moon cast shadows over his face as he gazed at her. “When will you stop hiding things from me?”  
Her eyebrows came down in a frown. “Like what?”  
One of his eyebrows lifted. “Do not underestimate me,” he said softly, his words hiding a subtle warning.   
She hesitated, sensing anger that she had gone behind his back, touched with hurt that she had said nothing to him. Her sixth sense was razor sharp. “You have a heavy load on your shoulders,” she said eventually, lifting her hands and running them along the said shoulders and down his arms, taking both his hands in hers.   
“That is what I was born for,” he replied.  
She shook her head. “No, it is not,” she corrected him. “Passing part of that burden over to your wife is what you do.”  
A trail of anger flashed across his eyes, and she knew it was because she had told him how to rule. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “What you did today was dangerous,” he told her.  
She pursed her mouth. “I did not sense danger,” she said. “But I did sense that I would be able to relieve you of some of the troubles that you carry.”  
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  
She waited, wondering if she had misread him and that in fact a gathering storm was going to break.   
Ice blue caused her heart to skip a beat as he looked at her again. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it and closed it.   
He turned his head away from her as she stepped closer, her body touching his. “I did not mean to hurt you, or to undermine you,” she said, looking up at him. “The only thing I wanted to do was take some of the pressure off. You have been through so much lately, and you cannot deny you are worried about the implications of another war.”  
He didn’t answer.  
“Please don’t be angry with me,” she said.  
His blue eyes looked back at her, and she saw the emotion in them change. “I am not angry, I am hurt that you did not tell me what you were going to do,” he said. “I would have gone with you. I do not trust Aimon or Druindar, especially not with you. I should have been there with you.”  
“I had Mithrandir, and guards,” she said.   
“I know,” he replied. “But you do not know them like I do. I can guarantee Druindar did his best to charm you.”  
She smirked. “He does not have your style,” she said.  
Heavy eyebrows came down in a deep frown. “So I am correct.”  
“I get the impression he would flirt with his own grandmother if he thought he could gain something from it,” she told him. “Do not read anything into it. The peace treaty has been signed, with only some minor adjustments being agreed on.”  
He startled her by swooping down and crushing his mouth against hers. She released his hands and slid hers up his arms, her lips parting under the pressure of his, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth.  
A sigh of contentment rumbled from his throat as he reluctantly tore his mouth from hers, his eyes glazed as he pulled back. “I wonder if the people of these lands know how lucky they are to have you as their Queen,” he murmered. “One who is not afraid to take a chance, one who will go above and beyond to ensure peace.”  
Her fingers drifted through his hair. “I went for them, but I went for you,” she said. “I do not want you carrying any more stress than you already have.”  
“You did well,” he acknowledged. “I have met with them twice and could not get them to settle. What did you agree to?”  
“I said we would endorse the trade agreement, and lift the sanctions on the east border,” she said. “It seemed the only way to get them to agree, although Druindar did not really want to sign the treaty.”  
“I can comply with what you suggested,” he replied. “And I am not surprised Druindar held out. There is so much darkness in his soul, it troubles me every time I have to deal with him.”  
She smiled. “Maybe the fact that you did not have to deal with him is a good thing then,” she said. “Although I do not doubt for a second that if I had been male, he probably would not have agreed to anything.”  
“Just so long as he knows you are out of his reach,” he said possessively.  
“Oh, he knows,” she laughed. “But he did make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. There is something about him...leerish...something horrid.”  
He lifted one hand and gently caressed her cheek. “Which is why I would have been with you, had I known what you were going to do.”  
She turned her head and kissed his palm as it rested on her face. “No harm has been done,” she told him. “All is well. Now maybe you can concentrate on what is going on in your own kingdom, instead of worrying over others.”  
He smiled, taking her hand in his and leading her back the way they had come. “I think we should stop coming out here when it has been raining,” he said. “Your dress is soaked at the bottom.”  
She shrugged. “It can be cleaned,” she said. His hand felt reassuringly warm as he held hers, large and comforting. “You do know I was terrified to tell you what I had done,” she added.  
He stopped, frowning down at her. “Why?”  
“Because I do not wish to anger you,” she said softly.  
He swallowed, remembering times past where she had taken the brunt of his rage. “I told you my love, never be afraid of me,” he whispered. “Never. You never have to hide anything from me. You can tell me anything. I am your husband, yes I am a King, but I am your husband. I do not want you to fear me.”  
She stepped forward as his arms closed around her, burying her face against the soft, warm flesh of his neck. “I love you so much,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin. “So, so much it hurts.”  
“I think recent events are causing you more grief than you are willing to admit, maybe even to yourself,” he said as he caressed her back. “You also carry a lot of stress.”  
She nodded into him. “My biggest fear is that one day you will not return home,” she said. “I know that you have promised you will, but I cannot help but worry.”  
“I think we also decided that you will be wherever I am,” he replied. “I can think of nothing else to put your mind at ease, save the fact I have been around for centuries and have no plans of going anywhere.”  
Her arms tightened around his neck as she took a deep breath. The man in her arms meant more to her than anything in the world, and she could only hope he had a glimmer of an idea just how much that meant.


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE 

 

Ava stretched her legs out before tucking them back into position, her knees over Thranduil’s thighs. Her head rested on his shoulder, his arm around her back. A blazing fire roared a few feet away from them, providing heat and a dim light.  
Her eyes were closed, her body in deep relaxation as his free hand slowly rubbed her lower legs and ankles.  
“Are you still awake?” he asked quietly.  
“Mmm,” she answered. “But only just.”  
“I have been thinking about your meeting today,” he said. “And how successful you were with the outcome.”  
She shifted her head slightly, burrowing closer to him. “Sometimes it definitely helps being a female,” she murmered. “It did in this case.”  
He kissed the top of her head, the ends of his long hair tickling her arm which lay across his stomach. “I do not like the idea of Druindar mentally undressing you.”  
She lifted her head. “Did Mithrandir tell you?” she asked, surprised.  
“Tell me what? No, I have not seen him since your return,” he said. “Does he know something I do not?”  
His frown made her wish she had thought before speaking. “No, just something mentioned in conversation on the way home,” she said.  
A finger tipped her chin back up as she turned away. “Pray tell.”  
“I saw his thoughts,” she admitted. “And that is exactly what he was doing.”  
Rage flashed across the ice blue, but he held in under control. “That does not surprise me,” he growled softly. “The man is a letch. He knew before he saw you that you belong to me.”  
She smiled, liking his possessive side. “At least the deal was agreed on,” she said, and yawned. “I am surprised the messenger I sent ahead did not make a point of finding you and telling you where I was going.”  
“I spent most of the day with bereaved families,” he said, gazing into the fire. His hand roamed up her back and caressed the back of her neck under her hair. “Not a pleasant task, but one that had to be done.”  
“Hopefully an easier day tomorrow,” she said. “Thranduil, that feels amazing.”  
“What does?”  
She laughed. “What you are doing to the back of my neck,” she murmered. “So relaxing. I could stay like this forever, and not move an inch.”  
He smiled, and slowly lowered his head, capturing her lips under his with a tender kiss. His hand moved up her leg to settle on her thigh, the warmth seeping through the leggings she wore.  
She lifted her arm and tucked her hand under his hair, her fingertips grazing his soft skin. Little stars began to burst into life behind her closed eyelids as his warm tongue pushed into her mouth, slowly exploring and encouraging hers to dance. Her breathing changed as he increased the pressure of his mouth on hers, coaxing hers wide open and taking advantage. Heat pooled in between her legs as his hand slowly wandered up and down her thigh in the lightest of touches.  
“You know you drive me out of my mind,” he whispered, lifting his mouth a fraction from hers. “Absolutely out of my mind.”  
She smiled. “Now you know how I feel,” she whispered back, and gave herself up to his kiss.  
***** 

 

Ava held her arms out on either side of her body, trying to maintain an equal balance. She wobbled slightly as she walked along the uprooted tree, emitting a high-pitched squeal.  
Legolas laughed. “Balance is not your thing, Ava,” he chuckled.  
“I shall balance you in a minute,” she muttered, concentrating on her task. “This is not so difficult.” She chewed her bottom lip as she focused.  
“An orc could do a better job,” he laughed.  
She gasped in mock horror, coming to a halt and planting her hands on her hips. “You are a cheeky-aargh!” She screeched as she toppled off-balance, only just managing to right herself.  
Legolas roared with laughter at her predicament.  
Muttering under her breath, she grabbed the branch overhead and swung herself up, sitting astride it. Grabbing a soft fruit within reach, she crossed her ankles beneath the bough for stability and threw it at him, hitting him between the shoulder blades with a hard thwack.  
“Hey!” he yelled, leaping to his feet. He grabbed a similar fruit and it flew at lightning speed at her.  
She flipped her upper body to the left, and it sailed past harmlessly. “Losing your touch, Butterfingers?” she hollered, and heaved another one. This time he swatted it aside as it travelled towards his head.  
“My aim is a thousand times more accurate,” he challenged, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  
“In your wildest dreams,” she taunted. “Come on then, bring it.” She snapped another fruit from nearby, similar in size and shape to an orange, and tossed it in the air in front of her.  
“That’s it, you asked for it!” he shouted, jumping onto a low hanging bough across from her and springing higher up the tree.  
A cascade of smaller fruits rained down on her, making her scream and shout with laughter. He dropped back to the grass.  
“I believe I win,” he announced smugly.  
“Like hell,” she roared, and let fly with the fruit she held in her hand.  
Legolas dived out of the way, and it landed in Thranduil’s waiting hand with a solid thump.  
Both of them went quiet, trying not to laugh.  
“I see a lot of practice is being carried out this afternoon,” he commented dryly, studying the missile he held.  
His son broke first, a snigger turning into a giggle, then a full-blown laugh.  
Ava couldn’t help but join him, swinging herself down off the branch back onto the tree she had been trying to balance on. “It is just a bit of fun,” she said, jumping back down to the grass. “And he is nothing but a cheat.”  
“I am not,” Legolas protested. “My aim is better, that is all.”  
“Ha!”  
Thranduil shook his head and took a bite of the fruit. “There are better ways to use what nature gives us,” he said.  
She gazed up at him sitting astride Belroch, and mentally agreed. Nature had certainly blessed him.  
Ice blue eyes caught hers, and her stomach started doing back-flips. “What are you doing out here anyway?” she asked, lifting her bow from where she had dropped it earlier.  
“Mithrandir is in the book room,” he replied. “I grew bored of his mutterings and ramblings.”  
“Is he doing something worthwhile?” Legolas asked, lining up an arrow.  
“He is, he is reading into the prophecy, trying to establish when it all started becoming open knowledge,” Thranduil replied. He took another bite of the fruit and handed it out to Ava.  
She took the few steps needed and took it from him. His eyes held hers for a second before he leaned down and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. Smiling, she bit into the soft fruit.  
Legolas rolled his eyes. “I never thought I would see the day,” he muttered.  
“What day?” Thranduil asked, sitting back upright on Belroch’s back.  
“You two, all lovey-dovey and touchy-feely,” he replied, firing the arrow at an apple and hitting it with exact precision. “You cannot keep your hands off each other.”  
“Says he who is still consorting with that little elf from the night of our wedding,” Ava laughed. “Any details?”  
“No,” he spluttered, turning red.  
Thranduil smiled. “Love is the most amazing thing,” he murmered, his gaze dropping back to his wife. “It takes complete control, and there is nothing that can be done about it.”  
She read the passion in his eyes. “And aren’t I glad about that,” she said, taking another bite. “Do we have these in the kitchen?”  
Legolas glanced at the half-eaten fruit in her hand. “There should be,” he replied. “If not, tell Faron to send someone out to get some. He always used to put them into pies.”  
“Such a waste,” she said. “Are you going back to the palace?” she asked her husband.  
He nodded. “I just needed a breath of fresh air, to clear my head,” he replied.  
Legolas snorted, clearly not believing his excuse for being there.  
“Can you take a lonely, missing-her-husband female with you?” she asked with an endearing smile.  
“One of such beauty? Of course, my lady,” Thranduil answered. He held out his arms, lifting her deftly and placing her in front of him.  
“Do not go shaking the fruits off the trees on the way,” his son quipped.  
His father turned his horse, drawing him a look of reproach. “I would not want to put your own prowess to shame,” he retorted, making Ava laugh.  
“You asked for that,” she told Legolas, and waved as they departed. “Is it just me, or are you thinking of sex all the time?” she murmered to Thranduil once they were out of earshot.  
His lips brushed the side of her neck in response. “It is not just you. I seem to have it on my mind all the time these days.”  
She grinned, tilting her head slightly as his warm mouth wandered a little, sending the butterflies in her stomach crazy. “Maybe we should do something about it,” she said.  
His arm tightened around her, and she felt his chest expand as he took a deep breath. “I would not wish for anyone to come out here and see you as I do,” he said, kicking Belroch into a gallop.  
Before long they were back in the courtyard, where he dutifully lifted her down from the horse, his hands lingering on her waist. He led Belroch over to the stable, and she followed.  
“He needs more hay,” she murmered, almost to herself. At his glance, she said she would go up and throw a bale down from the hayloft above them. Climbing the ladder, she smiled to herself. “These are packed really tightly together,” she called down, walking in the narrow aisles between the stacked hay bales.  
Her eyes closed and her mouth opened in a purr of pleasure as she felt him press tightly behind her in the confined space, his hands lifting her hair to one side.  
“Then allow me to lift one down,” he whispered in her ear, and his lips caressed her neck.  
She shivered in delight, leaning her head back on his shoulder, her curves pushing back against him. His hands slid down her arms, sliding her top down and exposing her upper body. She gasped as both hands closed over her breasts, kneading and massaging them. Her arms lifted to slide up around his neck, flames of lust gathering between her legs at his sensual touch.  
She rotated her hips as she pushed back, feeling the hard evidence that proved he was as aroused as she was. He sank strong teeth into her neck, drawing a deep groan from her, as he tugged her skirts up. Warm fingers dipped in between her thighs, finding her wet and ready for him.  
“I need you,” she whispered, her breath coming in soft pants. “I cannot wait.”  
“I do not wish to wait,” he murmered against her flesh, quickly undoing his trousers. He inhaled deeply as he freed himself, pressing his hard length against the curve of her rear and pushing insistently. “Open your legs, my love,” he whispered.  
Her bones turned to liquid at his command, and she complied, biting back a howl as he slowly pushed into her molten heat. One hand flattened against her abdomen to steady her, and the other went back up to her breasts as he slowly pumped into her.  
“Oh my god...more,” she panted.  
He thrust harder and deeper, sliding his hand from her breasts to her throat and tilting her head back, crushing her mouth under his. She whimpered helplessly in response, her insides gripping him hard. She moaned into his mouth each time he pushed home, her body reacting to him in every way. Her hands gripped his hair as she moved against him, desperate to take all that he had to give.  
“Harder, Thranduil,” she cried into him. “Harder.”  
He grunted with effort as he slammed his hips into hers, sweat trickling down his back. The muscles across his lower back tightened in preparation for his completion as he moved, his breath coming in choppy, uneven pants.  
She arched her back and exploded on him with a scream, her body going into violent convulsions, and he tore his mouth away and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her. His hand drifted from her stomach to around her waist to steady her as he rocked hard into her orgasm. Tears of passion poured down her face, her body and the world around her in total meltdown. He stiffened behind her, emptying into her with a loud, drawn-out groan.  
Exhausted, she leaned her forehead on the bales of hay before her. She sniffed and tried to regulate her breathing. A touch of disappointment filled her as she felt him pulling out of her, and pulling her clothing back into place.  
Nobody said anything for a while.  
Taking her hand, he sank down onto his knees on the floor of the hayloft, pulling her to sit astride him and burying his face in her hair. “Please do not cry,” he said sadly.  
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “They are not sad tears,” she said, gazing into his hypnotic eyes. “They are tears of passion, tears of happiness, tears of love. Nothing bad.” She smiled through her tears.  
His mouth pressed against hers, a soft murmer echoing from the back of his throat. “I never want to make you cry,” he whispered.  
“Only with happiness,” she replied. A sound down on the ground made her stiffen in his arms. “Oops...we have company.”  
She stood up, wiping her face with her hands. Thranduil rose to his feet, hoisting a bale of hay and tossing it easily down onto the lower floor. Fastening his trousers, he went down the ladder first, his hands on her hips as she followed him.  
“My Lord, m’lady,” Nardual greeted them. “I was checking to see if Belroch needed anything...I did not mean to interrupt-“  
Ava strolled past him, a finger on her lips. “Sssh,” she whispered, a grin on her face at his blushed cheeks. No doubt he knew what they had been up to in the hayloft.  
“M’lady,” he said, bowing as she passed him. Thranduil followed in silence.  
Outside, she linked her fingers through his as they crossed the courtyard, and shook her head in amusement. “One day we are going to get caught,” she mused.  
“Then if anyone sees you in a state of anything resembling nakedness I will have their head,” he replied, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Shall we find Mithrandir and see what logic he has found, if any?”  
“Lead the way, my King,” she replied.  
***** 

 

Ava fell asleep leaning against Thranduil’s arm as Gandalf droned on and on. The heat in the book room combined with her earlier exercise had worn her out, and Thranduil smiled tenderly as he turned his head and saw that she was sleeping.  
“Married life is good for both of you,” the wizard commented as he thumbed through yet another book. “I see a great change in you, my friend.”  
Thranduil lifted his gaze from her sleeping form and looked over at him. “A good change, I presume,” he said.  
“Of course,” the reply came. “You had closed yourself off for far too long, you had to learn to live again. I assume you know of the warning?”  
He frowned. “What warning?”  
“The fire melting the ice,” Gandalf replied, meeting his eyes. “You cannot let the melting ice extinguish the flame of the fire.”  
He nodded. “Bard said that to me, a long time ago.”  
“He was right. The prophecy speaks of the flame being in danger of being put out, and if that were to happen, everything would change.”  
“Are you saying Ava would come to harm in my care?” Thranduil asked, a slight hint of hostility in his voice.  
“Not at all,” the wizard responded. “I am saying do not try to change her; do not clip her wings. She has to fly and let the fire that lives within her burn to its potential, otherwise her existence has no meaning.”  
“The battlefields,” he murmered.  
Gandalf nodded. “That is a bone of contention, I see that clearly,” he said. “My advice is to allow her to make her own choices, to seek comfort in whichever way she can. And if that means being at your side in battle, then so be it.”  
“What if she perishes?” he questioned. “How could I live with the knowledge that I had caused her death by allowing her to be with me?”  
He shook his head. “She will not. Not with you at her side.”  
“She has been injured before, more than once.”  
“And she has survived, has she not?” Gandalf pointed his pipe at him. “The strength of her love for you will pull her through what most others would shy away from. Trust me, my friend.”  
Thranduil looked down at her, her face peaceful as she slept. “I should take her to bed where she will be more comfortable,” he said. “Your advice is heeded, I assure you.”  
Gandalf smiled, and turned back to the book in front of him.  
Thranduil carefully leaned her away from him so he could stand, and swept her up into his arms. She instinctively nuzzled closer to him, content in her unconscious mind that he was close. Careful steps took them both down through the hall, and along the mass of corridors to their room.  
Gently laying her on the bed, he tugged his boots and his tunic off before sliding in at her back, pulling the blankets up over them as he putting his arm around her. She sighed contentedly, and slept on.  
“I love you so much, _Nin mel _,” he whispered into her hair. “So much, that I could not live without you.”__


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

 

Ava bent over, one hand holding onto the wall for support, the other holding her stomach. A deep breath left her with a hiss as she breathed through the pain, a nauseating feeling washing over her. The shadowed hallway seemed to blur out of focus as she breathed through her nose in an attempt at self control. Blinding pain arched through her skull, making her wince.  
Taking a tentative step forwards, she wobbled and leaned back against the wall.  
*****

 

Thranduil looked up from the document he was reading, his eyebrows coming down in a heavy frown. Ava had not spoken in his mind, but he could sense that she needed him.  
Tossing the paper aside, he kicked his seat back and stood.  
“My lord, this requires your urgent attention,” his scribe said in a worried tone.  
“It is not all that requires my urgent attention,” he replied, striding out of the room and not even bothering to close the door at his back. His head whipped left and right as he marched through the shadows, scanning for his wife.  
He followed his strong instinct and turned down the corridor that led to the exit closest to the stables, his eyes landing on her slumped against the wall at the far end.  
“Ava!” he shouted, breaking into a run. Quickly closing the distance between them, he sank to his knees at her side. “Ava my love, what is wrong?”  
She breathed heavily. “It is nothing,” she grimaced.  
He studied her, quickly assessing her in his clever mind, eventually noticing that she was holding her stomach. “It is not nothing,” he said, gently but firmly prying her hand away. “How often do I need to tell you that you should be resting when this happens?” He rose to his feet, lifting her into his arms and heading up the stone stairwell with her.  
Turning into their room, he carefully deposited her on the bed, sitting down next to her and taking her hands in one of his. The other he used to lift the hem of her tunic, and he slowly rubbed circles across her abdomen.  
The warmth of his hand spread across her flesh, lightening the pain a little. She closed her eyes and continued to breathe in deep, even breaths.  
Continuing to watch her, he widened the circles of his hand, exerting slight pressure. Dazed blue eyes opened and stared into his.  
“You must learn to listen to me, _Nin mel _,” he said. “I am older than you, therefore I have more knowledge.”__  
She grimaced slightly. “But you are not a female,” she said.  
He smiled. “I do not have to be. I am surrounded by female staff, and I would have to be blind to not know what is going on around me. The next three days you shall spend here.”  
“What?” she snapped, trying to sit up.  
Gently pushing her back down against the pillows, he shook his head. “You are so stubborn! Listen to me. Three days. In bed. Resting. No arguments.”  
She huffed in exasperation. “There are times when I really do not like you,” she muttered.  
He threw his head back and laughed, a hearty roar that came from the pit of his stomach. “You lie so badly, my love. You know that what I am telling you is best for you. You just do not like to admit I am right.”  
“I want to go back to Lake Town,” she said.  
The laughter vanished. “Absolutely not,” he said. “You cannot travel when you are like this Ava, you know how bad your cycle is, how ill it makes you. Besides, no women are returning as yet, until the men have managed to work on some of the destruction.”  
She glared at him, knowing he was right, but stubbornly refusing to admit it. “I cannot spend three damned days stuck here by myself!” she grumbled.  
“Then I shall stay with you,” he shrugged, unfazed. “Next problem?”  
“You cannot spend that amount of time away from your duties,” she said, her gaze softening.  
“I am the King-“  
“Therefore you can do what you want,” she interrupted. “Masterful.”  
“You would not have me any other way,” he told her, leaning down and giving her a kiss. “I will go and get something for you to eat, then you must sleep. Understood?” Ice blue eyes gleamed at her.  
“Fine,” she sighed, too sore and worn out to argue further. Rolling over, she closed her eyes, fighting against the agonising pains shooting across her abdomen.  
Thranduil hesitated, before rising to his feet. “I shall return soon, my love,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear before leaving her side.  
*****

____

 

Thranduil kept to his word and stayed with her for three days and three nights, comforting her when she was crying in pain, rubbing her stomach to try and alleviate her agony, and holding her when she was asleep. By the fourth day, she had perked up and was feeling back to her old self.  
She awoke to find him settled cross-legged on the bed beside her, going through documents.  
“How long have you been awake?” she asked with a yawn.  
He glanced up at her. “I have not slept much,” he said. He was frowning.  
“What is wrong?”  
“Aimon wishes to pay us a visit,” he murmered, lost in what he was reading. “It seems you made quite an impression on him during your visit.”  
She rolled her eyes. “I have very little time for him,” she replied. “He is a mere puppet – Druindar is the one who pulls his strings and tells him what he should do.”  
“I have to agree,” he said. “Nevertheless, if I refuse, it could be taken as a gesture of hostility. I do not see any way to put him off.”  
“Tell him we are too busy working on the rebuilding of Lake Town,” she said. “That way there would be no point in his arrival.”  
Thranduil looked at her. “You know my wishes on that subject,” he said softly.  
“Yes I do,” she said, hauling herself into a sitting position. “And I also know that you will more than likely return to help out, and we do not know if the orcs will launch another attack.”  
Gandalf’s words came back to him loud and clear. “ _My advice is to allow her to make her own choices, to seek comfort in whichever way she can. And if that means being at your side in battle, then so be it _.”__  
“I do not feel that building work is appropriate for a woman,” he said.  
“Sexist,” she snorted.  
He smiled. “Maybe. Maybe I just look to find safer things for you to occupy yourself with.”  
“Sewing?” she asked sarcastically. “Flower-arranging? Do not insult me.”  
His smile widened into a grin. “I would not dream of such a thing,” he replied. “Even though I know you master everything you put your mind to.”  
“Including getting my own way with you,” she smirked.  
“To a point,” he conceded. He turned and tossed the parchments on the other side of the bed, his long hair drifting over his shoulders as he moved. “But my main concern right now is how you are feeling. The last few days have been really bad for you, my love.”  
“I feel back to myself,” she replied honestly. “And if my King allows it, I wish to get up today and leave this room for a while. I go mad cooped up in the one place for too long.”  
“Then accompany me to see Mithroch,” he suggested. “The little one has been missing her mistress lately.”  
“I have missed her too,” she said. “She is growing fast, and I do not want to miss any stages of her development.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, flexing her toes on the thick rug below her feet.  
Thranduil rolled his shoulders, before getting up and going over to a pitcher sitting on a small wooden table. He poured a glass of fruit juice and handed it to her. “Are you strong enough to be up and about?” he asked, concern in his blue eyes.  
She nodded, accepting the glass and taking a drink. “Yes. I need to get back into some sort of routine.”  
“Well may I suggest you take things easier today than you normally would?”  
She frowned. “I really want to do some sword practice, if you have time,” she said. “If not, I can always find the captain and get him to put me through my paces.”  
He smirked. “I think he fears for his life when training with you,” he said. “You seem to put the fear of god in him when you get angry.”  
She laughed. “That is not my intention,” she said. “I have not been practicing of late, and do not want to fall behind or forget what I have learned and accomplished so far.”  
“I will spend some time with you this afternoon,” he told her. “But you must stop if you get too tired or sore. Agreed?”  
“Agreed,” she replied as she stood. “I think I need to bathe before I do anything, and have something to eat. Then I will go and see my little one.”  
He smiled as he watched her pad over to the rock pool, shirking out of her loose-fitting tunic as she went. His nostrils flared as her naked form came into view; strong muscles flexing across her shoulders and her back, the soft curve as her waist flared out to the swell of her buttocks, her long legs which stepped with delicacy and grace over the edge of the rocks.  
Taking a deep breath he turned away. “I will go and arrange with Faron for something for you to eat,” he said over his shoulder.  
“Okay,” she replied.”Love you.”  
He turned back, swiftly crossing to her and tipping her head back as he placed an upside-down kiss on her soft mouth. “I love you too, _Nin mel _,” he whispered, an urgency to his words.__  
With that, he left the room, leaving her to freshen up.  
*****

____

____

 

Mithroch galloped around the stable, her head tossing as she playfully cavorted around her patient mother. Ava grinned as she watched her. So unlike Belan in nature, the young foal had captured her heart.  
Her grin faded as Belan came to mind. The huge white horse had had so much patience, and seemed to know what was going through her mind whenever they were together. She had always known when Ava was restless and wanted to gallop through the woods to let off steam, or if she was troubled and needed some quiet reassurance. Many times she had gone down to the stables and had just stood with her forehead pressed against hers, quietly drawing strength from the silent animal who had always been there for her. She had knowingly developed the habit of dropping down for her to mount, knowing she couldn’t do so otherwise without help of some sort.  
Pain sliced through Ava’s heart.  
She missed her so much.  
“If I may say so m’lady,” a soft voice said, breaking her line of thought. “Belan is always with you.”  
She turned her head to see Nardual standing a little behind her shoulder, and offered a weak smile. “I know,” she answered. “But it does not stop me grieving for her.”  
He nodded, stepping forward to stand beside her. “She was special,” he acknowledged. “And she was completely devoted to you. It was almost like she knew.”  
“Knew what?” she asked with a questioning frown.  
He smiled. “That the King had chosen you as his own,” he replied. “Before you came here m’lady, Lord Thranduil was the only one who rode her. He tended to her if she was unwell, took care of her. She only responded to him. Then you came into her life, and she turned to you.”  
Ava thought over his words.  
“She knew, I think,” he said. “She knew she belonged to you, and that you belonged to the King, therefore she was devoted to keeping you safe and protecting you.”  
She inhaled deeply. “I remember the battle with the orcs when I first met Bard,” she said softly, lost in her memories. “I took an arrow and thought I was finished. There was an orc standing over me, his sword already coming down to kill me. And Belan saved my life.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears.  
“That was her mission in life,” Nardual said quietly. “She knew the King’s feelings for you, and knew that she had to protect you against every danger that presented itself.”  
“Damn,” she muttered. “I miss her so much.”  
“I understand, m’lady,” he said, before quietly leaving her to her thoughts.  
A few moments passed before she felt a warmth against her back.  
“Nardual is right,” a deep velvet voice said softly.  
She glanced over her shoulder, knowing instinctively that her husband stood behind her. Strong, gentle hands took her shoulders and turned her around. Ice blue eyes met hers.  
“Let your grief fly, my love,” he said. “Belan served you well, and would not wish you to hold on to the pain forever.”  
She leaned her forehead against his chest, closing her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I know,” she replied, lifting her head and meeting his eyes once more. “I am really struggling to let her go though. I honestly do not know if I can.”  
He nodded slowly. “Through time you will,” he assured her. “Take one day at a time, and eventually it will become easier. I promise.”  
The heat from his hands pressed against her back melted through her top into the flesh below, providing a sense of comfort and security.  
“Do you wish to practice?” he asked.  
“Yes, but I would like to eat something first, if you have time to wait,” she said. “If not, that is fine, we can do it now.”  
“Of course I have time,” he said with a frown. “Why would I not have time?”  
“Because you have other things to attend to,” she said, taking his hand and entwining her fingers through his as they left the stable.  
“I will always have time for you,” he said, a touch of annoyance in his tone. “Do not ever think that I would not. I do not like to hear this Ava, I have never refused to spend time with you.”  
“I did not say that you had,” she told him. “All I am saying is that there will be more important things to do.”  
“No,” he said sharply. “There is nothing more important than you.”  
She glanced up at him as they walked, trying to hide the smile of amusement at the irritated look on his face. “If you say so,” she murmered.  
They had something to eat, and headed into one of the halls to practice, as it was quite cold outside and Thranduil didn’t want Ava to be out in the cold for too long until he was sure she was back to her full strength.  
Lifting the sword that she’d had made for him, he admired the shining steel, a slight smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. He picked up a slightly smaller weapon, turning and handing it to her, his fingers brushing hers as she took it from him.  
She froze.  
She was surrounded by darkness, a thick, heavy atmosphere that made it difficult for her to breathe. Waves of rage washed over her, tides of untameable anger that flooded through her senses. The darkness deepened, the air thinned out even further.  
She saw Thranduil’s back, his long hair swishing as he walked, the tension in his shoulders vividly clear. The feeling of rage came through stronger, and she physically jumped and cried out as the vision shattered into thousands of pieces with the force of hatred.  
“Ava! Ava, talk to me!”  
His voice dragged her back to reality, the urgency in his tone tearing her away from what she had seen. Her eyes focused on his, huge with terror and fear.  
“Ava, what happened? Tell me,” he said, dropping the swords and framing her face with both hands.  
She gulped and swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Anger,” she whispered. “Darkness. So much rage.”  
“Where? Whose anger? Whose rage?” he asked.  
She shook her head, trying desperately to get her bearings. “I do not know,” she said. “I saw you, from the back, and you were so angry...but I saw nothing more. I do not know if you are angry with someone or something, or if the anger is directed towards you.”  
He inhaled deeply, trying to fathom out the meaning behind what she had seen. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, feeling the tremors that rippled through her body. “Do not worry, my love,” he said soothingly. “We cannot do anything until we know more.”  
“This is nothing like what I have seen or felt before,” she said. She pulled back from him, gazing up at him. “I have seen your anger many times, but this is different. This is a hatred that runs so much deeper, a darkness that takes over everything.”  
He sighed as he rubbed her upper arms. “I do not know what to say,” he admitted. “I get angry often, but most of the time I do not show it, not to the lengths you are seeing. I do not know what you have seen.”  
She stared deep into his eyes, keeping silent.  
“Ava,” he said in warning.  
She held his gaze.  
“No,” he said. “No.”  
Silence.  
He sighed, a mixture of anger and exasperation. “You know how strongly I feel about this,” he said, breaking away from her.  
Still she stayed silent, folding her arms.  
“What you are thinking is making me angry,” he said quietly.  
No reply.  
“And stop looking at me like that,” he snapped. “I feel like you can see into my soul.”  
“I do not wish to see into your soul,” she said. “I wish you to see into mine.”  
He glared at her. “Do you realise what an intrusion that is?” he demanded, his eyes flashing in anger. “I went against everything I believe in once, and I never should have done it then. My only saving grace is that by doing it I kept you alive.”  
“So it was put to good use,” she told him. “If I allow you in, then there is no intrusion...god, you can be so damned difficult when you put your mind to it.”  
His eyebrows rose in shock.  
“I am not speaking to you as my King, Thranduil. I am speaking to you as my husband. There are times when I need to, and this is one of them. I feel I will need all the help I can get, I have never felt so much evil,” she said. “If I cannot turn to you for that help, then who can I turn to?”  
He closed his eyes as he looked away, shaking his head. “Fine,” he said quietly.  
“What?” she asked, sure she had misheard him.  
He glared at her. “I said fine. If this is what you wish, then I will agree to it. But I am not happy about it.”  
She stepped towards him, touching a hand to his folded arms. “Do not resent me,” she said. “Remember...I did not ask for this power.”  
His glare softened, and she felt the anger leave his body. “I understand,” he said on a soft sigh. “This just goes against every rule there ever was, written and unwritten, spoken and unspoken.”  
“But you are the King,” she said quietly, a smile appearing. “And you can bend the rules any way you want.”  
He suddenly grabbed her, hauling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. “Do not interpret what I say any way you see fit,” he said, and she giggled into his shoulder. Lifting her head, she nuzzled across his cheek in search of his mouth. Her lips met his in a tender caress.  
“You say a lot of things that have dual meanings,” she whispered. “I take what I need from what you say.”  
“I am sure you are a demon disguised as a sexy elf, sent into my life to turn everything upside down,” he smiled.  
She laughed. “Not quite,” she answered. “Shall we leave practice for now? I seem to have lost the urge.”  
He nodded. “We probably should. If you have no objections, I would ask for Mithrandir to be with us if you are determined to go ahead with your proposal.”  
“I have no issues with that,” she said. “Maybe he too can shed some insight.”  
He nodded, and she could still sense some apprehension from him.  
“Then let’s see if we can find him and seek his council,” he said.


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

 

Ava sat on her knees, her legs tucked comfortably beneath her. Thranduil sat before her in the same position. His hands covered her own, which rested on her thighs, his forehead touching hers.  
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered.  
She opened her eyes, gazing into his which were so close she was unable to focus. “Yes.” Her eyes closed again, and he did likewise.  
Changing her breathing, she slowed her heartbeat down to a low level, and opened the barricade that she kept around her mind.   
The minutes ticked past.  
She felt Thranduil’s presence within her, a comforting peace flowing through her body. Somehow the prospect of what she might see didn’t worry her, as she knew he was there to go through it with her.   
Her heartbeat slowed further as she had a distinctive floating feeling, almost as though she was slowly drifting downwards.   
Rage flashed through her, making her jump.   
Thranduil’s fingers tightened around the back of her hands.  
Darkness. That heavy, unbreathable atmosphere. Hatred.   
Emotions were flashing around her, and she was unable to pinpoint any exact one, they swirled too rapidly. The deafening sound of glass smashing assaulted her ears. More rage. More hatred. The darkness intensified.   
Again she saw Thranduil’s back, and this time she saw the sword he carried in his hand. It was the sword she had designed for him.  
And it dripped blood.   
He turned, his face a mask of cold, hard hatred. Blood was splashed over him, and he breathed heavily. The force of anger from him took her breath away.  
Jumping back, she broke the contact between herself and her husband, who shook his head and gasped as he too put some distance between them.  
Meeting her eyes, he continued to shake his head.  
“Tell me,” Gandalf prompted.  
They had both forgotten he was in the room with them.  
Ava pushed herself to her feet, folding her arms across her stomach in a comforting gesture. Breathing heavily, she seemed to struggle to regain control.  
“Ava, talk to me, my dear,” the wizard prompted gently. “Tell me what you saw.”  
She swallowed. “The same as previously,” she said, her voice hoarse. “But he carried his sword this time, blood everywhere. On the weapon, on him...so much anger and darkness.”  
Gandalf looked over at Thranduil, who still sat on his knees. “Did you see the same?” he asked.  
He nodded. “Yes. That is not troubling me, Mithrandir. It is the feeling I sensed.”  
Gandalf nodded.   
She went over to the table and dropped heavily down onto a seat, holding her head in her hands. “I do not want this,” she whispered. “Take it from me.”  
The wizard lit his pipe, unconvinced. “What you see will trouble you,” he told her. “But remember you are seeing it for a reason. Something significant is ahead, and you have to be prepared for it.”  
She lifted her head, her glance catching Thranduil’s before she looked away again. “I had my own gut instinct this time,” she said.  
“Which was?” Gandalf asked.  
Her eyes met her husband’s again. “The anger. It has something to do with me.”  
His shoulders dropped. “Not that much anger, my love,” he said. “I would never show you that much anger. Never.”  
“I do not think you have any choice,” she said. “I do not know if the blood is mine or someone else’s.”  
He leapt to his feet. “I will never take a weapon to you,” he gasped, horror in his eyes. “Ava...oh no...do not ever think that! I know what happened before when I was poisoned, but please my love...do not think that!”  
“I do not know what to think,” she said. “Nothing is clear. Everything seems so muddled and out of focus. Did you hear the glass smashing?”  
He nodded. “I did.”  
Gandalf remained quiet, turning things over in his mind. “I personally think you two are too strong a couple to have this be something directly between you,” he said eventually. “I’m not saying whatever it is doesn’t affect you both, but I don’t think Ava is the target of the darkness.”  
“I know she is not,” Thranduil said immediately. “She has suffered too much as it is because of my actions in the past.”  
“Stop it,” she said.  
“And she will suffer no more,” he went on, as though she hadn’t spoken. “Her role as my wife is not to fear for her life or to be afraid of me. I would walk away from the marriage before I let her feel like that.”  
“Nobody is walking away from anything,” she snapped. “We have been through this bullshit. I am not going through it again.”  
Both men raised their eyebrows in shock at her language.  
“Alright, I think we should discuss the incident in the past,” Gandalf decided, crossing one leg over the other.  
“I do not wish to,” Thranduil replied, turning away.  
“Ava?”  
She looked at the old man.  
“How did you feel at the time?”  
She sighed, her vivid memory playing everything back like she was reliving it. “Terrified,” she admitted, her voice low.   
Thranduil took an audible breath, still with his back to them.  
Gandalf waited for her to continue.  
“I knew something terrible had to have happened, I just did not know what,” she said. “I remember seeing his eyes...pure black instead of ice blue.” Her words trailed off.   
“The effect of the poison,” Gandalf said quietly.  
“He threw me against the wall and came at me,” she said. “But he was not walking right...it was like he was drunk or something, off-balance.” Her eyes lifted to her husband’s back, as he tipped his head up to stare at the roof above them. “When he had me on the floor, I knew I was going to die.”  
“You will never know what I have to live with each and every day,” he whispered.  
“Needless guilt,” Gandalf said decidedly. “Ava, tell me the truth, my dear. Are you afraid of him?”  
“No,” she answered immediately. “At the time, yes, I was petrified. But no. I am not.”  
“His temper is infamous throughout these lands,” the wizard said dryly.   
Thranduil glared at him.  
“But he shows a side nobody has ever seen before,” he added, a mischievous smile forming. “And it only shows when you are in his presence, or he is thinking about you. His people are mystified.”  
Ice blue eyes finally met hers as he slowly turned.  
She smiled. “Then maybe my presence is not such a bad thing.”  
He crossed over to her, sinking to his knees before her and taking her hands in his. “Your presence has never been and never will be a bad thing,” he said. “My life was filled with darkness, then you came into it and shone a light so bright, I could not see anything around me. It blinded me, and it scared me.”  
“True love,” Gandalf supplied.  
Thranduil smiled. “Yes. It was.”  
The wizard stood, sorting the long hem of his robe as he did so. “I think I will retire for the night, give you two some time to digest what you have seen, try to make sense of it.”  
He bid the goodnight and left the room, closing the door quietly at his back.  
Ava leaned forwards and rested her head on Thranduil’s shoulder. “This scares me,” she told him. “I am not sure I want to carry this for the rest of my life.”  
He lowered his head, leaning his cheek against the top of her hair. “It is a burden,” he said. “But if you are strong enough to carry it, I will share the burden. If you wish to try and stop it, then I will support you also.”  
She blinked, not sure she had heard him correctly. Pulling back, she stared up at him. “Do you mean that?”  
He nodded, pursing his mouth. “Maybe the prophecy is not the issue, maybe it is your happiness that we should be thinking about. Maybe the foresight centuries ago was wrong.”  
She leaned back against him, deep in thought.  
*****

 

A week later they set off for Lake Town.  
The army of soldiers had rested and gathered their lives together, and were ready to start helping others do the same. Hundreds of them departed from the palace at dawn, energised and ready to make a difference.  
Thranduil and Ava rode side by side.  
Gandalf accompanied them, having spent the last seven days poring over every piece of literature he could find, and had decided to seek out Radagast once his work at Lake Town was complete. He rode further back, chatting amicably to some of the soldiers.   
Once they arrived, spirits dropped at the sight of the devastation which lay before them; a once almost thriving residential area reduced to almost nothing. Flattened buildings, wrecked houses, destroyed dreams. Everyone fell silent, absorbing the destruction.  
Ava turned to Thranduil. “Are we ready to do this?”   
He met her confident, determined gaze with his won, and smiled. “Yes.”  
Within the hour, everyone was settled and into organised groups.   
Bard and Legolas worked with Ava and groups of others, although she struggled to get them to allow her to do what she wanted, being that she was the only female who had gone along. Dressed in tight leggings and boots, she was cosy and warm, and determined to jump headfirst in like everyone else was. Secretly she suspected Thranduil had given them the ears about not letting her do as much as they would be doing, but she shrugged off their concerns and applied herself to her tasks.  
Thrandul paused in helping to lift a section of a flattened building, his wife catching his eye.  
She was up on top of a roof tossing slates down, aiming for Legolas, roaring and laughing as he dodged the missiles. Bard was holding his side as he laughed, and Legolas was leaping around as he avoided her almost perfectly aimed projectiles.   
She gave up and slid down the roof on her backside, dropping neatly to her feet and pushing him aside as she started lifting the slates she had thrown. Her laughter rang like music in his ears, and he stood upright as he watched her.  
She tossed the broken tiles into a large bucket which two soldiers dragged away, and got Bard to hoist her back up onto the roof in between nailing planks together and laughing at her. Legolas climbed up alongside her and they started nailing new slates in place, with her winding him up and throwing things at him randomly to put him off.  
Thranduil smiled to himself.  
“She is one of a kind, my friend,” Gandalf noted, appearing at his side and leaning on his staff.  
He glanced at him. “Yes, she is,” he agreed. “I cannot seem to remember a time before she came into my life.”  
“I can,” he said dryly. “You were obnoxious, irritable, and never smiled. Now I see a man who has a meaning in life. Hold on to that meaning, and cherish her.”  
“I do,” he said, turning to him. “I worship Ava. There is nothing I would not do for her.”  
“Keep it that way,” the wizard advised, ambling off in another direction.  
Thranduil turned back, to see her balancing on a fence as she had dropped down from the roof, before jumping to the ground and fetching more materials.  
She worked efficiently, passing what was needed to those who required it, immersed in what she was doing.  
Something made her pause, and she looked up directly over at him, making his heart skip a beat. He smiled, which she returned, and she went back to the task at hand.  
Shaking his head, he went back to lifting the building section he had abandoned.  
*****

 

Three days and nights passed.  
Ava and the soldiers worked tirelessly alongside the men of Lake Town, and Lord Dain had made an appearance with his armies to lend a hand or few thousand. Working together as one solid unit, they gradually made a difference, erecting buildings, making safe those which still stood, and repairing anything that required attention.  
Snowflakes drifted lazily past Thranduil as he gazed out across the scene before him. Some of the soldiers had built small fires, heating water and cooking. Most of them rested momentarily, Ava being one of them.  
“Things are coming together,” a voice said, and he turned to see his son at his side.  
He smiled. “Yes. It shows what people can do if they work as one instead of individuals.”  
“I am a little concerned about Ava,” Legolas said.  
Thranduil’s head whipped round. “Why?”  
“Do not panic. She is showing signs of tiring, that is all. I told her several times throughout today to rest, but she would not take my advice. She is doing as much as everyone else, but she is not as physically strong.”  
His father frowned. “I see I shall have to drag her away,” he said. “Maybe I should send her back to the palace.”  
Legolas snorted. “Good luck,” he said. “You know as well as I do that she would not leave you.”  
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It would not hurt to suggest it to her.”  
“No, but a swift smack around the ear might,” Legolas laughed. “And I have no doubt that is what your reply would be.”  
They watched as Ava sat cross-legged next to one of the fires, feeding a piece of meat to a stray cat she had found.  
Thranduil smiled. “Leave it to Ava to find a lost animal,” he murmered.  
“Well, she found you, did she not?” his son quipped, and disappeared with a cheeky grin.  
He turned back, to see the cat climb into her arms and snuggle down contentedly. No doubt another acquisition for the palace. Rolling his shoulders, he stepped down off the wooden ledge he had been standing on and crossed over to her, sinking down beside her and mimicking her position.  
“How are you, my gorgeous wife?” he asked, softly kissing her.  
“Better after that,” she said with a smile. “Look what I found.” She indicated the purring feline in her arms.  
He raised his eyebrows with a knowing smile. “Why am I not surprised?” he murmered, stroking under the cat’s ear. “Hooves, paws or feathers.”  
She frowned. “You keep saying that.”  
He laughed. “It is true, my love. Anything with hooves, paws, or feathers always finds a connection with you, and comes to you.” He shrugged. “It is the way of nature, I suppose.”  
She continued to pet the cat, long strokes from the ears right down to the tail. “Each life is precious,” she said, meeting his ice blue eyes. “Which is why I have decided I do not wish to close down the power I have.”  
He studied her for a few moments. “I do not want you to go through any more suffering,” he told her. “I understand your decision, and I will support you through it, but it kills me to see you in pain.”  
She shrugged. “Maybe that comes with the responsibility,” she reasoned. “Who knows the logic behind this...I certainly do not. All I can do is roll with it and hope everything turns out the right way.”  
“Look at what happened here,” he said, gazing around them. “If you had not foresaw the orc attack, there is a good possibility that no-one would have survived.”  
“I know. And that has been weighing heavily on my mind,” she told him. “Coming back here was a good thing for me, it has helped me put things in perspective, whereas I had kind of lost that a little along the way.”  
“This whole area as we know it could have been lost forever,” he said. “A whole kinship of people, just gone.”  
She stopped petting the cat, who stirred and jumped down from her arms. “Who knows why things work out the way they do?” she said. “If I do nothing else with this, at least most of the people here are going to be alright.”  
“And that is what you must remember whenever you question yourself,” he told her. “However...I have a request.”  
She held his gaze.  
“Would you consider returning-“  
“No,” she cut him off.   
He shrugged, knowing there was no way in hell she would even think about going back to the palace without him. Staring into her determined eyes, he broke into a wide grin and hauled her over to sit on his lap. “I thought that is what you would say,” he said, interlocking his fingers at her back. “Truth be told, I would miss you if you did return. Even though I would know you were safe.”  
“I am perfectly safe here with you,” she said. “There is no safer place in middle earth than here in your arms.” She tilted her head forwards, meeting his soft, warm mouth for a tender kiss, completely ignoring Legolas who walked past muttering something about ‘cannot leave each other alone for more than half an hour’.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More italics fuck-ups...the last sentence of the first paragraph isn't meant to be in italics. Sorry! x

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

 

Thranduil persuaded Ava to ease up for the night and try to get some rest, which she eventually agreed to after a fair amount of arguing and resisting. She went off to one of the habitable buildings which they had been sleeping in over the last few nights, with the promise that he would follow shortly after he had attended to a few things.  
Washing herself in hot water soothed her tired, aching muscles, and gave her a sense of well-being that she had missed over the course of the day.  
She heard Thranduil enter the building and close the door, securing it for the night, and her heart began to beat faster in anticipation.  
“Ava?” he called, and she heard the thump of his boots hitting the floor.  
“Through here,” she called, wrapping a large fluffy towel around herself as she dried off.  
Soft footsteps signalled his approach, and she smirked to herself. She still had energy to burn.  
Turning her head slightly so he had a view of her profile, she could almost feel his thoughts as he shrugged out of his cloak, the heavy fabric landing on the chair beside him.  
“What kept you?” she asked.  
He stepped towards her. “I had to make sure everyone was settled for the night,” he answered, lifting his hands to caress her shoulders. She leaned back against him, the heat from his body seeping into hers. “And make sure the animals were settled.”  
She ‘mm’d in agreement, closing her eyes as she gently rocked back against him, and felt his sharp intake of breath.  
Another smile.  
“Would you dry my back, please?” she asked.  
He wordlessly peeled the towel from her, using long, sweeping motions to do as she had requested. He clenched his teeth as she stretched, sighing as she did so.  
“My back is quite sore,” she murmered.  
“Would my lady require a massage?” Velvet words infused themselves into her pores as his warm hands firmly traced the contours of her back, sweeping down towards the curves of her rear.  
Her head leaned back a little in pleasure as a soft sigh escaped. This was just what she needed after a long, hard day.  
His hands continued on her back, working from her shoulders down to her hips and back up again, before one slid around her throat to tip her head back. His warm mouth covered hers, his tongue probing inside as she opened up to him, her arms sliding up around his neck.  
Her movement lifted her breasts higher, and both his hands went forwards to lift and caress them. She whimpered as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples, her moan of lust igniting fire in his blood.  
“One simple kiss,” he gasped, tearing his mouth from hers and kissing his way down her neck. “One simple kiss and you have me on my knees.”  
“Almost,” she replied, arching into his touch. “God, I need you so much...”  
“Then do not let me deny you,” he whispered raggedly, moving his right hand to undo his trousers. She gasped as his erection pressed against her buttocks, insistent and hard. Opening her legs slightly, she pushed back against him, already wet and throbbing for him.  
He pushed her forward, climbing onto the bed behind her on his knees and pulling her back over his legs. Opening his thighs, he forced her legs open on either side of his, and guided himself into her, a deep rumble coming from the back of his throat as she closed around him.  
The noise of animal lust she made almost had him coming on the spot, but he dragged a deep breath into his lungs and fought it off.  
Strong hands gripped her hips and guided her movements, and she gripped the top of his thighs for support. Throwing her head back, she let out a low howl as he pushed in to the hilt, burying himself as deep inside as he could go.  
His breath came in ragged pants against her ear as she moved, his teeth sinking into the flesh of her neck and biting hard. She twisted a fist in his hair, pulling him closer, her movements getting faster. Her hips ground against his as his hands trailed upwards and closed over her breasts again, the sensitive flesh swelling against his touch.  
“More baby, oh my god, more,” she cried, her senses on fire. She twisted and turned as she moved, trying to break his control, the steady rhythm of his thrusts.  
His resolve was stronger than hers though, and he kept pace, equally determined that she would orgasm first. Both hands roamed freely over her, caressing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, before one hand delved in between her legs.  
“Feel how wet you are for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, as he touched her where they joined. He slid his fingers forward again, slowly rubbing her clitoris and making her jolt in his arms. Slow, circular movements around her sensitive organ sent her higher, her inner muscles clenching tighter around the length of him. “Come for me,” he panted. “Let me feel you come, my love.”  
She panted hard, her body tensing as her climax approached with astonishing speed. He continued to work his magic, one hand rolling her left nipple between his finger and thumb while the other kept up the heavenly torment between her legs.  
Everything around them seemed to fade into oblivion as she reached higher, her thighs trembling as she touched the edge of bliss.  
“Thranduil, I’m coming,” she cried. “Oh my god, I’m coming!” She ended on a scream as she exploded into an earth-shattering orgasm, and he quickly clamped a hand over her mouth as he rocked harder into her.  
“Keep going,” he whispered. “Go with it.”  
Her body spasmed wildly, and he struggled to hold her. She leaned forwards and buried her face in the pillow, wrapping her arms around it, and he lifted her hips higher. Fast, hard thrusts pounded into her and her climax rocked on and on like it would never end. She felt his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks as his movements started to lose rhythm, and felt him go rigid before he fired deep inside her.  
Moments later he collapsed onto her back, trying to support most of his weight on his elbows. His long hair drifted over most of her face and shoulders, and she had never felt so contented, so at peace.  
“I am too heavy, my love,” he mumbled into the same pillow she was leaning on.  
“No you are not,” she replied, “Stay like this for a while, please.”  
He smiled, lifting his upper body and kissing in between her shoulder blades. “My fiery little elf gets her own way with me again,” he murmered.  
She grinned. “I did not hear you complaining.”  
“And you never will,” he told her. “But I have to move, this is not a comfortable position for you.”  
She whined in protest as he slid out of her, an instant cold washing over her. He rolled over and grabbed the blankets, lifting them up over her to keep her warm while he got undressed.  
Within a few seconds he was back, his warm body over hers as he wrapped his arm around her and lifted her back against him. Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, he closed his eyes and relaxed. “I cannot remember ever feeling like this,” he said sleepily.  
She lifted her head back and looked up at him. “I would not change this feeling for anything,” she whispered back.  
“Nor me,” he replied, and angled her head so he could kiss her mouth. “Try to rest, _Nin mel _, you have had a long day.”__  
She smiled in contentment and closed her eyes to sleep.  
*****

____

____

 

Ava screamed.  
Thranduil’s heart stopped. He dropped the tools he had been holding and jumped over the fence, tearing round the side of the building, to see Dain, Legolas, Bard, and Ava in a full-on snowball fight. The snow had fallen thicker through the night, and the soft white blanket made a perfect backdrop for a war between them.  
Ava screeched again and ducked, as Bard threw a snowball and it sailed past her. She let fly with a volley of abuse followed by three or four snowballs, each one hitting her target except the last one.  
It hit Thranduil in the middle of his chest as Bard ducked.  
Her hands flew to her mouth and she doubled over laughing. “Oh babe, I did not mean that,” she howled, hysterical at the look on his face. “Honestly, I did not!” She ended on a scream and took off as he started running towards her. Skidding around the corner, she grabbed the wall for support and hopped over the ruins of a building they had not yet started on, the heavy tread of his feet pounding after her.  
Snow crunched under her boots as she ran, sliding as she tried to build up speed and put a safe distance between them.  
His strides were much longer than hers, and the breath left her in a rush as he tackled her from behind, bringing them both crashing down into the snow.  
Tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks as he pinned her on her back and tickled her, and she screamed for mercy as she tried to kick him off.  
“Do you yield?” he teased, his hands ceasing the torment.  
“No!” she yelled, still laughing. She screamed like crazy as he resumed tickling her, fighting and shoving him and getting tangled up in his hair. “OhmygodIhateyou!” she roared, breathless.  
He sat back on her legs, pulling her to a sitting position. “Now do you yield?”  
Shaking her head, she grinned at him. “What do I get if I do?”  
“A taste of what lies ahead when we get back to the palace,” he murmered, leaning towards her and brushing his mouth over hers in a light whisper. “A night in our own bed, the log fire burning, my mouth exploring your body, my hands-“  
“Hey, can you two put each other down so we can get some work done here?” Legolas yelled from the other side of the road.  
Thranduil glared at him in annoyance. “You were not doing any work anyway,” he pointed out.  
His son snorted. “We were having a break,” he shrugged. “Now break is over.”  
“Hold up, I am coming,” Ava said, pushing her husband aside and scrambling to her feet. He stood with her, tucking his arm around her waist.  
“You could have been,” he whispered, a wicked grin on his face.  
“Been what?” She grabbed a handful of his cloak to keep herself steady as they trod back over the uneven surface.  
“Coming,” he whispered in her ear and laughed as she turned pink. Giving her a quick kiss, he released her and went back to where he had been working.  
“Promises, promises!” she laughed after him, and he grinned over his shoulder.  
Knowing grins met her as she returned to her group.  
“What?” she demanded indignantly.  
“Nothing,” Dain chortled. “I never thought I would see it.”  
“Oh not you as well,” she said. “I have enough with him saying that all the time.” She indicated Legolas, who laughed.  
“You should see it from our point of view,” he told her. “Even I have never seen my father like this. You have changed him.”  
Bard nodded his agreement as he held a sheet of plywood in place. “Oh definitely. I see it,” he said.  
She smiled, lifting the heavy mallet and going back to hammering in fence posts.  
“I’m surprised she is not pregnant yet,” Dain whispered to Legolas, who smirked.  
“I heard that!” she shouted over the noise she was making. “You forget we elves have amazing hearing abilities, small person.”  
The three men chortled, resuming their tasks.  
*****

 

Throwing the mallet to one side, Ava wiped the sweat from her brow as she stretched her back, her lower muscles burning from extertion.  
“If I may say so, m’lady, this does not appear to be a task for a lady,” a voice said.  
She turned to see one of Bard’s men behind her, leaning on a hand barrow filled with chopped wood.  
She smiled. “Nonsense. There is no such thing as tasks for individual genders in my mind,” she said. “Besides, every little bit helps.”  
“It certainly does,” he agreed. “I do not know how much we would have accomplished if it were not for you and your people, and Lord Dain and the dwarves.”  
“You would still get there, but over a greater expanse of time,” she told him. “Many hands make light work, and all that.”  
He nodded, gazing out over the scene before them. Half-erected buildings, almost-cleared residential areas, and large parts resembling habitable dwellings. “It will be good to bring our families back to something comfortable.”  
“Yes, I imagine you miss them,” she said, turning to take a cup of hot herbal tea from one of the soldiers. “Thankyou.”  
“M’lady,” the soldier replied, and went off again.  
“Life is hard enough, without being separated from your loved ones,” the man commented. “My name is Thomas.” He grinned, holding his hand out.  
Ava shook it. “You already know mine,” she smiled. “So what family do you have, Thomas?”  
“I do not have a wife, but I have my mother and an elderly aunt,” he replied. “And my uncle lives with us.”  
She nodded, sipping her tea, grateful for the hot liquid to thaw her. “That is still a lot of responsibility.”  
“Yes. My mother is well for her age, but my aunt does not always fare so well,” he said. “The cold gets to her sometimes.”  
“Ava, are you free to give me a hand over by the docks?” Bard called.  
“Yes, on my way,” she shouted. She smiled at Thomas. “Best get back to work.”  
“M’lady,” he said, tipping his hat.  
She hurried over to Bard, taking her tea with her. She caught sight of Thranduil over by the horses. He stood with one hand on Belroch’s mane, staring over at where she had been, his expression blank.  
Thinking nothing of it, she approached her friend.  
“Better not to become too friendly with Thomas,” Bard said in a low tone, so nobody else would hear.  
She frowned in confusion.  
“He is known as the town’s letch,” he told her. “No woman will go near him.”  
Her mouth opened. “He seemed nice enough,” she said. “It was just friendly chat.”  
He nodded. “I know. But I am not sure your husband does.” He nodded towards Thranduil’s direction.  
She turned, and his cold stare met hers.  
“Oh here we go,” she muttered. “I cannot live my life being surrounded by males and not converse with them. That’s unrealistic.”  
“Yes, but be picky about who you converse with,” Bard advised. “Be forewarned.”  
“A green-eyed husband I can do without,” she muttered, setting her cup down. “What did you want me to help you with?”  
He looked up at her. “Nothing. I just felt I should pull you away from Thomas, lest Thranduil puts two and two together and comes up with thirteen.”  
She held his stare, considering his words.  
*****

 

The following two days passed in a blur.  
Ava spent a lot of time working with Dain, most of it in tears of laughter at his rough sense of humour and his keen observation powers. He had something to say about everything and everyone, each snippet of his insight being beyond funny. They worked well together, and she discovered the grouchy dwarf had a soft side he kept hidden from public viewing.  
Similar to Thranduil.  
She didn’t see much of him throughout the days, often falling asleep before he returned to the building where they rested through the night. Sometimes he did not return until almost dawn, exhausted and sore, but they curled up together and slept in each other’s arms.  
The final day arrived, with Thranduil outlining plans for them to leave the following morning. The soldiers cheered, looking forward to getting back to their own sense of normality.  
Ava too missed her home. She missed the intimate time she had with her husband, time spent curled up in silence, just relaxing with each other. Time spent reading, or riding together. Time spent away from prying eyes.  
“So our mission for this day is to complete the south section, then we are free to leave,” Thranduil concluded, addressing the masses before him.  
Ava swung her feet as she sat on a low stone wall, content to watch her King do what he was so talented at, leading and guiding his armies and his people. Confidence oozed out of every pore, a sense of arrogance adding to his air of regality. A sense of wonder filled her, amazement that she had ever managed to catch his eye in the first place all those moons ago. Women lusted after him everywhere; one look at his perfect face, his long flowing blond hair, his ice blue eyes, and his tall, strong body and females almost fell to their knees.  
Yet he had chosen her.  
She smiled to herself, shaking her head in wonder as he talked on.  
“What is amusing you?” Legolas asked, bumping her shoulder with his as he sat next to her.  
Her smile widened into a grin. “Nothing. I just cannot believe sometimes how things have worked out.”  
He returned her grin. “With my father, you mean?”  
She nodded. “Yes.”  
He turned his gaze to Thranduil, who was gesticulating with his hands as he talked, walking back and forwards. “I am happy he has you, Ava. I often thought the person he was had become lost in the realms of time, and would never be found again. He has a purpose, an energy that we have not seen in centuries.”  
She continued to watch him, mesmerised by his graceful moves as he walked.  
“You are the best thing to happen to him,” Legolas said. “I fear to think what would have become of him had you not came into his life.”  
With that, he hopped down off the wall and disappeared into the crowd of soldiers.


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

 

Their last day hurtled past with lightning speed, and Ava fretted that they would not complete everything they had set out to do before nightfall. She threw herself into her task with everything she had, with the thought that the more she could accomplish, the less work would be left for the residents of Lake Town.  
Legolas and Bard kept an eye on her, often warning her to be careful and not overdo things, but she ignored them.  
Thomas loitered around, much to her distaste. After Bard’s warning, she didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire that might erupt from Thranduil, should he get the wrong idea. Several times, a meaningful glance over in Bard’s direction prompted him to send the man away elsewhere to work.  
The difficulty came when Ava realised this would be the last they would see of Gandalf for a while. She had become very attached to the grumbling wizard, often finding herself both hysterical at his dry wit and sarcasm and astonished at his wisdom and hindsight.  
“Can we not make Mithrandir an honourary elf?” she teased that evening, crossing her arms around Thranduil’s neck from behind as she leaned against him. He sat on a ledge in conversation with Bard.  
He grinned, giving her a view of his profile. “Along with the cat you keep sneaking food off to?”  
She laughed. “Oh, the poor thing is starving,” she said. “You know I cannot stand to see an animal go hungry.”  
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “I think you should rest for the remainder of the day,” he advised her. “You have worked tirelessly for days.”  
“That is what I came for,” she informed him, sticking her tongue out at him out of his line of vision.  
Bard hid his grin behind his cup as he took a drink of wine.  
“Childish gestures,” Thranduil mocked her.  
“I swear you have eyes in the back of your head,” she tutted.  
“I need them,” he replied, a trace of something in his voice that spiked her attention. He turned to his companion. “Do you require me to leave support here when we depart tomorrow?”  
“No, although I thank you for the offer,” Bard replied. “You have done so much already. The rest is up to us to complete.” He glanced around. “There is enough to keep us busy for the next few months, but not enough to keep your people from their home any longer.”  
Thranduil nodded. “I will arrange for guarded escort for your people’s families back from the realm,” he said.  
They continued ironing out the details between them, and Ava eventually retreated, deep in thought about the hidden meaning to what her husband had said.  
*****

 

The next morning, farewells were bid, and the elves returned to the palace. Ava was sad to depart from the friends she was close to, but knew she would see them again soon, and she was also looking forward to returning to the comfort of her own home.  
Thranduil seemed to relax on the journey, and she sensed tension gradually drain from him the further away from Lake Town they travelled. He had been quieter than usual the previous night, and had fallen asleep with his back to her. Refusing to let it trouble her, she chose to relax herself, knowing the following day would be tiring as they made their way towards home.  
Once they reached their destination, she slid from her horse and discreetly disappeared into the depths of the palace, grinning as she lifted a fluffy bundle from the folds of her cloak.  
She sneaked into one of the smaller rooms along from the room she shared with Thranduil, taking the cat with her.  
“Here we go, Diamond,” she murmered, setting him down on his paws and releasing him to explore his new home.  
“Why am I not surprised to find that scamp here?” a deep voice said behind her.  
She whirled round, and laughed as Thranduil stood in the doorway with his arms folded, one eyebrow raised. “Oh come on, you know I would not leave him to starve,” she said.  
He unfolded his arms and crossed over to her, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I knew you had him hidden,” he told her. “You cannot keep anything from me.”  
“I did not try to,” she smiled up at him. “I merely forgot to mention him.”  
He laughed, lifting one hand to run it through her hair. “What do you say to a long, hot bath together?” he murmered.  
“Heaven,” she replied. “Let me fetch some food for the little one first though. I shall not be long.” She skirted around him and left the room, leaving him with the feline.  
He sank down onto his haunches, holding a hand out to the cat. The dark ball of fluff wandered over, sniffed his hand, then rubbed against it, purring loudly.  
“You are just one of a thousand creatures to find his way inside her heart,” he said softly, lifting the cat and cradling him against his chest. “Although heaven only knows how many more will fall under her spell.” Troubled ice-blue eyes lifted, gazing out of the window on the far side of the room.  
A while later, his thoughts were still troubling him as he leaned back against the rocks of the pool, Ava leaning back against his chest.  
“What irks you?” she asked, breaking the peaceful stillness.  
“Nothing,” he replied, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her bare arm.  
She shifted forwards and turned halfway, so her side was presented to him. “You lie badly.” Her head turned and she met his eyes head-on.  
He heaved a sigh. “I am concerned we have left the men with too much to complete before their families return,” he told her. This was the truth, although not the entire truth. Thomas had burned his presence into his mind.  
She chewed her bottom lip. “We could not have done anymore, given the time we were there,” she said. “We worked until we could do no more.”  
He lifted a hand and gently touched the side of her face. “You did far too much, my love,” he said softly. “And you would not heed my words.”  
“I have told you, I always heed your words,” she corrected. “But I also have a strong will, and will go as far as I feel I need to.”  
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he seemed to be thinking something over.  
She wasn’t satisfied that he had told her all that was on his mind, but settled for the fact that he would, once he had sorted out whatever it was that was clouding his thoughts.  
Feeling the need to claim her as his own, he pulled her to him, closing his mouth over hers in a deep, penetrating kiss. She murmered in pleasure as his tongue entwined with hers, her breathing changing as flares of sexual pleasure arched through her body. Her hands rested on his shoulders, the heat from him merging into her.  
Twisting her head slightly to deepen the kiss, an intense bolt of lust shot through her as his tongue probed deeper, exploring her mouth with a passion that took her breath away. Strong hands gripped her waist under the water, lifting her around and sitting her astride him, pulling her knees forwards on either side of him. His solid erection nudged against her stomach as she wriggled into him.  
“I did not know a male could get so easily aroused, as quickly,” she panted, breaking free for air.  
“I only have to think about you, and I am ready,” he whispered, his mouth blazing a trail of fire down her neck. “I ache for you. I burn for you.” He lifted her hips as he spoke, adjusting himself in the process. He slowly pushed into her as he sucked hard on her neck, and she groaned in pure lust as she felt the bruise begin to form under his mouth. Dropping her head forward, she tangled her hands in his hair as she lowered her weight down onto his thighs, taking him deep inside. He flexed in response, and her internal muscles gripped him tightly in reflex.  
His hands drifted up her body to her breasts as she moved, the sensations overtaking her rational thought. Her hips moved against his, each thrust causing the water to lap around them in waves. She pulled him away from her neck and chased his mouth, accepting his probing tongue immediately as she found it. Soft moans and whimpers tore from her throat as he kissed her, his hands massaging her breasts and his hips keeping up with her steady rhythm.  
She leaned her head back as his mouth left hers, kissing and licking his way down her neck. Her back arched as he continued lower, and he leaned her further back in his arms as his mouth closed around one nipple, sucking rhythmically. Her insides clenched hard, a guttural cry ripping from her. Leaning her hands just above his knees to support her weight, she panted for breath, the room spinning around her as he created complete havoc within her. Her hips ground hard against his, an urgency clear in her movements. He switched to her other nipple, repeating his teasing as he circled it with his tongue and sucked hard.  
She cried out again, lifting both hands to fist in his hair and letting him take her weight. The pool beneath them seemed to tilt, her equilibrium shot to pieces as he skilfully took her higher towards her peak.  
Lifting his head, he stared into her eyes as he lifted her back towards him, so close their mouths were almost touching but not quite.  
“Only ever mine,” he whispered raggedly, feeling the beginnings of an explosion begin to build.  
“Only ever yours,” she promised, framing his face with her hands and drawing his mouth to hers. His tongue ravaged her mouth again, and she twisted in his arms. “I’m coming,” she whimpered against his lips.  
He thrust upwards harder, pushing her over the edge into raptures of orgasmic bliss, gripping her fiercely as she thrashed against him. Water splashed out of the pool onto the floor, but neither of them noticed. His body tensed and he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips, pushing hard once more as he poured deep inside her. An animalistic howl ripped from his soul as he spurted into her molten core, aftershocks pounding through his body.  
Exhausted, she gasped for breath as she collapsed against his chest, his heartbeat thundering below her ear like horses’ hooves. He leaned his head back against the edge of the pool, closing his eyes and taking deep, panting breaths. His hands slowly caressed the warm, wet skin of her back.  
Time passed, as she tried to regulate her own pounding heartbeat. Her hands interlocked at the back of his waist as she lay sprawled against him. Eventually, she loosened her hands and gently pushed against his shoulders to sit herself upright.  
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I think you needed that,” she said softly.  
He smiled back, lifting his head and gazing at her. “We both did. It has been a rough time recently.”  
Trailing her hands along his upper chest, she leaned forwards and placed a kiss right above his heart. “I love you.”  
“I love you too, _Nin mel _,” he whispered, winding his fingers through her hair and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “More than you will ever know.”__  
Again, she had the thought that there was something underlying, but didn’t push it further.  
*****

____

 

The families who had taken refuge at the palace prior to the orc battle gradually filtered back to Lake Town, accompanied faithfully by Thranduil’s soldiers as he had promised. Life at the palace seemed to return to normal. Ava found herself busy with the cat she had adopted, constantly chasing him around the palace and dragging him out of mischief. The energetic ball of fluff was forever wandering off, exploring the vast interior and getting into all sorts of trouble.  
A few days after the last of the Lake Town families had departed, she was in the stall with Belroch, trying to tempt him with an apple she had procured from the kitchens.  
“M’lady,” a voice said behind her.  
She turned, her jaw dropping in shock as Thomas stood before her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.  
He shrugged. “I wanted to see you again,” he replied.  
Her eyes narrowed. “You do realise the King will throw you in the dungeons if he knows of your presence?”  
A grin appeared. “And well worth the risk,” he replied, taking a step towards her. “Someone of your beauty should not necessarily be kept hidden away in the palace.”  
Her eyebrows came down in a frown. “The palace is my home,” she said. Belroch shifted restlessly behind her. “You have no need to be here.”  
“I wish to get to know you a little better,” he told her. “Surely there is no harm in that?”  
“There is plenty,” she replied, a sharp tone to her words. “I do not welcome your intentions.”  
The man’s grin faltered. “I was under the impression we connected well,” he said.  
“Then you are misguided,” she said. “I think it is best if you leave, and hope the guards do not catch you on your way.”  
He shook his head, almost in amusement. “Hard to get,” he murmered. “I hope to see you around, m’lady.”  
Belroch snorted loudly as he turned and left the stable. Ava leaned back against the horse, wondering how on earth he had managed to sneak past the guards in the first place. If Thranduil found out he was there, all hell would break loose.  
The vision she had had floated back to her.  
Her husband surrounded by so much anger and rage, the blood dripping from his sword.  
A shudder rippled down her spine, and she patted Belroch’s neck before stepping away from him. She wondered as she left the stable whether she should tell him or not, knowing the outcome. If she was able to see the future and change it, there should be a way for her to prevent what she saw from happening.  
Thinking that she would leave things for the time being, she went into the palace to freshen up and get changed for dinner.  
*****

 

“Is there something on your mind, my love?”  
Thranduil’s velvet voice dragged her back to the present. They were down in the kitchen, with him seated at the table in the centre of the room while she peeled potatoes for the following day.  
“No,” she replied, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. “I am just wondering where Diamond is, I have not seen the little rascal for most of the day.”  
Several days had passed since her conversation with Thomas out in the stables, and she had not seen or heard anything of him since.  
Thranduil lifted an orange and began removing the peel, his eyes on her instead of what he was doing. “I sense you are troubled.”  
She shook her head, dropping the last of the potatoes into the huge pot and wiping her hands on a towel thrown on the worktop beside her. “There is nothing wrong with me. You have an overactive imagination.” She smiled as she leaned on the table across from him, resting her forearms on the smooth wooden surface.  
His eyes dropped to her breasts, her cleavage exposed by her posture, then lifted back to hers again. He said nothing.  
“The last I saw of your impish cat was a few hours ago,” he said eventually, turning his attention to the orange as he peeled it. “Legolas was trying to fix something on his horse’s saddle and the cat was chewing on his hair.”  
She laughed, standing upright. “He is such a sweetheart,” she said. “How could anybody not fall in love with him?”  
Thick eyebrows lifted. “He is a menace.”  
She laughed heartily. “I have seen you holding him, snuggling into him,” she teased. “You are not as hard-hearted as you would like me to believe.”  
Ice blue eyes locked with hers, the amusement lurking in their depths making her laugh harder. “You would have everyone believe I am nothing but a soft natured, easily-led excuse for a ruler,” he said.  
“No I would not,” she replied, deftly swiping the single segment of orange he had freed and popping it into her mouth. “Anyone who knows you knows that you are not like that. Not most of the time anyway.” A devilish smile lit up her face. She stood next to him, toying with the ends of his hair. “I wish I had hair like yours.”  
“You do,” he answered. “Only a different colour.”  
She wrinkled her nose. “Yours is softer, more silky,” she murmered, fascinated as always by his hair.  
He twisted on the seat, bringing his body to face her. She stood only a few inches above him, and only a few inches away. “You would tell me if something was on your mind,” he said. It was a statement, not a request.  
“Of course I would,” she said with a frown. “Why do you think I would not?” All of a sudden she felt uncomfortable in his unflinching gaze.  
“I do not think that,” he replied. “However...I do know how you think, and how you try to fix things by yourself instead of coming to me.”  
She brought her mouth close to his ear. “There goes that overactive imagination again,” she whispered, before dropping a swift kiss on his mouth. “Now...are you, me, and that orange going to bed, or are we going to sit here all night until the kitchen staff come in for work at sunrise?”  
“Now there is an invitation I could never say no to,” he replied with a grin, rising to his feet. “After you, my Queen.”  
*****

 

The following morning, Ava finally managed to wrestle reins on Belroch after several failed attempts, and had decided to take him for a walk on the outskirts of the forest. Thinking a different environment would be good for him, she strolled along, leading the huge horse at her side.  
Rustling in the trees caught her attention, and she jumped in fright as Thomas bounded out of the foliage, landing in front of her.  
Belroch snorted in warning.  
“We meet again, m’lady,” he said with a grin.  
“You need to leave here,” she hissed. “If you wish to keep your head where it belongs, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”  
“I told you before...I wish to get to know you better,” he replied.  
“I do not wish to know you better,” she snapped. “I know enough by your actions. There are guards close by; one shout and they will have you prisoner.”  
“You already have me prisoner,” he said quietly, stepping towards her.  
She instinctively stepped back, bumping into Belroch’s shoulder. The horse whinnied, knowing his master’s love was uneasy. One hoof stamped the ground.  
“I can’t get you out of my head,” Thomas said, still advancing. “You haunt my dreams, you haunt my life.”  
She shook her head, suddenly feeling afraid. “You are delusional,” she said. “You need to go.”  
“You cannot deny what I feel!” he ground out, grabbing her tunic.  
She let go of Belroch’s reins and swiped her arm up angrily, breaking his hold on her. The tunic ripped. “You feel nothing!” she spat in anger. “You intrude on my husband’s lands, you creep up on his wife – you must be out of your mind!”  
“I am, with thoughts of you,” he cried, grabbing her again. Both his hands gripped her wrists, holding her in a grip that was stronger than she would have given him credit for. Lifting her leg, she kicked him as hard as she could in the groin, and he bent over in agony. Wrenching her hands free, she stood back.  
“Get out of here,” she said angrily. “Or I will tell my husband that you have been here.”  
Belroch continued to snort and whinny, stamping the ground restlessly.  
Thomas straightened, wincing in pain. “Promise me you will meet me, and I will leave,” he said.  
“Go to hell,” she hissed.  
She moved, but not fast enough as he grabbed her yet again, trying to force her closer to kiss her. She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled hard, and he squirmed out of her steel grip. His movement twisted her off-balance and she crashed to the grass, her head smashing off a protruding rock.  
Thomas stood back, shock on his face. Glancing at the horse which had started to bellow in temper, he took off at a run through the trees.


	44. Chapter 44

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

 

Thranduil jumped in fright and stopped mid-sentence as the doors of the throne room flew open.  
“My Lord, Belroch has just returned without Queen Ava,” the guard panted. “He is distressed.”  
The blood drained from Thranduil’s face, as he flew up from his chair. Pushing the flustered guard aside, he sprinted from the room and down the hallways. He crashed out through the side doors onto the courtyard, where his horse was indeed alone and in a frenzy. He turned in circles, stamping his feet and neighing loud enough to wake the dead.  
He ran over to him, and the horse quietened instantly as he touched a hand to his neck. Throwing his body up onto the animal’s back, he urged him to go to Ava. Belroch complied, taking off at a gallop back through the gates, followed by several guards as they mounted.  
He caught sight of her lying in the long grass beside the path, and slid off Belroch, approaching her at a run.  
“Ava! Ava, can you hear me?” he shouted, sliding to a stop on his knees beside her. Blood trickled from a wound above her right eye, and she was unconscious.  
“Is she breathing, my Lord?” one of the guards asked urgently, kneeling at his side. “My Lord!”  
His tone seemed to snap Thranduil out of his state of shock, and he scooped her up into his arms. Her head rolled back against his shoulder as he moved quickly, taking her back to the palace. Concerned guards surrounded him as he headed inside, clearing the way as people approached to ask what had happened.  
He burst into their bedroom and set her down on the bed. “Ava, please wake up,” he pleaded. “Can you hear me?” Tears blurred his vision as she remained unresponsive.  
“The nurse has been informed, my Lord,” one of the guards said, before stepping outside the room.  
Thranduil touched her face with a shaky hand. “Please my love, please speak to me,” he pleaded in a broken whisper.  
Still she remained motionless.  
The nurse bustled into the room, carrying her ever-present drawstring bag of assorted potions and whatnot. She cast an eye over Ava, before shaking her head.  
Crossing to the opposite side of the bed from Thranduil, she set about checking her heartbeat and her breathing, both which she seemed satisfied with. She quickly cleaned the wound on her head, clearing the blood away and applying a thick green paste, before applying a small dressing and taping it into place.  
“Will she be alright?” Thranduil asked eventually, as she stood back.  
“Her breathing and her heartbeat is fine,” she replied. “And the wound on her head is superficial. I feel she must have fallen and knocked herself out on something.”  
“Yes,” he murmered slowly. “There was a rock next to her...I am sure there was blood on it...I did not pay it much attention...”  
“That would do it,” the nurse agreed. “Let her rest. She will awaken when her body needs to.”  
He lifted shocked eyes to her. “Is that all?”  
“Yes,” she replied. “There is nothing more you can do, my Lord. She needs to heal.”  
His eyes drifted back down to his wife, fear filling his senses.  
*****

 

Ava stayed unconscious for several hours.  
Thranduil didn’t move from her side. He sat on the bed next to her, holding her hand and talking softly to her. Several guards came and went, and Legolas dropped in a few times. He ignored everybody, focusing only on her still form.  
The first thing she became aware of was a sharp, throbbing pain in her head, and her eyebrows came down in a frown as her eyelids flickered slightly.  
“Ava?” Thranduil gasped, leaning over her. “Ava my love, can you hear me?”  
“Mmm,” she mumbled, slowly opening her eyes.  
His concerned face hovered above her, anguish in his blue eyes.  
“Where am I?” she said slowly.  
“At home,” he replied, a tearful smile breaking over his face. “At home, safe.”  
She blinked. “My head hurts,” she whispered.  
“You knocked yourself out,” he said, gently touching her cheek with the pad of one finger. His other hand held her hands. “I was so worried, _Nin mel _...Belroch came back without you and nobody knew where you were or what had happened to you...” He trailed off as a tear slowly trickled down his cheek.__  
She pulled one hand free and wiped it away, and he lifted the hand he still held and closed his eyes, holding his lips against it in a kiss.  
“Can you remember what happened?” he asked, his eyes still closed.  
“I must have fallen off Belroch,” she said.  
His eyes opened. “You need a saddle on him when you ride him,” he said. “He is too big for you otherwise.”  
She nodded slowly, wincing in pain. “Noted,” she said. “Can I sit up? I need something to drink.”  
He moved on the bed, sliding his arm around her back and easing her into a sitting position, before handing her a cup of water. “Drink this, but take your time,” he said.  
Her hands shook a little so he held onto the cup, her fingers over his. Once she had taken enough, he put it back onto the table. “I am so glad you are alright,” he whispered, pulling her slightly so her shoulder leaned against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her hair and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I could not stand it if you were to be taken from me.”  
“I am not going anywhere,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of him. A shudder rippled down her spine at the memory of what had happened when she had been out, and his arm tightened around her in response.  
“Do you need anything, my love?” he asked.  
“No, I am fine,” she said. “Just let me stay like this for a while, if you have nothing else to do.”  
“Everything else can wait,” he said. “There is nothing more important than you.”  
She relaxed against him, absorbing his body heat and his strength as she faced an uncertain future.  
*****

____

 

Thranduil didn’t let her out of bed until the next morning. When he finally relented, she shooed him aside so she could get washed and changed into fresh clothes. Tugging on stretch leggings and a soft peach-coloured top, she sighed, feeling better.  
Thranduil moved to stand before her and gently pushed her to sit on the edge of the bed, as he picked up the brush and began brushing her hair.  
“You do not have to do this if you have other things to do,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.  
His hand stilled, and he stared at her for a moment. “I do not have other things to do,” he said.  
She stayed silent while he worked the tangles out of her hair, taking the quiet time to study him. He was dressed from head to foot in grey, his long cloak detailed with tiny threads of metallic silver with a deep orange lining. His freshly washed long hair hung over his shoulders and down his chest, making her sex drive whoosh to life.  
Ignoring it, she crossed one knee over the other and waited for him to complete his task.  
“I suggest you take things easy today,” he said, finally putting the brush down.  
“You always tell me that,” she laughed. “I am perfectly fine, honestly. I want to come and have something to eat with you...if that is alright.”  
He scowled. “Will you stop behaving like you are a second choice in my life? You are always my top priority, you always have been and always will be.”  
“I just do not want to intrude on your schedule,” she told him.  
He extended his hand, taking hers and helping her to her feet. “You are my schedule,” he said, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth. “How is your head?”  
“Still painful,” she admitted as she fell into step with him and they left their bedroom. “If I turn quickly, I soon remember that I hit it.”  
“Then do not turn quickly,” he said with a cheeky grin. His fingers folded through hers tightening the grip as they walked along the hallway.  
Guilt ate away at her.  
She knew she should tell him what had really happened, but she didn’t want him flying into an uncontrollable rage. She didn’t believe in keeping secrets from him, he was her husband who she trusted with her life, and by telling him an outright lie she had gone against everything she believed in.  
They went into the throne room to have breakfast, during which Thranduil kept a discreet eye on his wife.  
He knew when he was being lied to.  
And he knew when she was lying.  
He just didn’t know what about, or why.  
*****

 

Ava paced up and down the room, her arms folded protectively across her body. The guilt was gnawing at her soul, and she was fighting an inner battle with herself. Thoughts of how tender Thranduil was with her, how much he worried about her, how much he loved her kept circling around in her mind.  
So did the vision that she had seen.  
The rage, the blood, the tense atmosphere.  
Changing direction mid-stride, she hurried from the peace and seclusion of the book room and down the stone steps, holding the wall as she went for balance. Crossing the floor, she hurried along the hallways.  
Coming to a halt outside Thranduil’s study, she hesitated, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Conflicting emotions pulled her in all directions, and the restless feeling in her soul grew and gathered strength.  
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and peeked inside. “Have you got a minute?” she asked.  
Thranduil looked up, a smile lighting up his face. “Of course,” he said.  
She went in and closed the door behind her before she lost her nerve. “There is something important I need to speak with you about,” she said, her words coming out in a rush.  
He frowned, rising from his seat. “What is wrong? What is troubling you, my love?” He crossed the room to her, grasping her upper arms, his eyes searching hers.  
She swallowed. “I have something I have to tell you,” she said.  
A cold, icy fist of fear formed in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes changed as he released her and took a step backwards. “You are worrying me, Ava,” he said.  
Blue eyes filled with anguish lifted to his.  
The fear flourished. “You have fallen for someone else,” he whispered.  
“What? No!” she said, frowning in confusion. “No, where did that come from? No, I just...I have to talk to you.”  
His heart pounded like a drum in his chest, and he took a deep breath. “I am listening,” he said.  
She took his hand and led him over to the table where he had been sitting, lowering herself onto a chair. He sat across from her, waiting for her to speak.  
She swallowed again. “When we were at Lake Town...” she began, and trailed off as she lost her nerve. “When we were at Lake Town, one of the men there was hanging around me.”  
His eyes changed.  
“Bard warned me what he was like and I made a point to avoid him after that, but he kept showing up,” she continued. “Every time he did, Bard would send him off somewhere else.”  
“The man I saw you talking with the day you were building the fence,” he said. His tone was cold, emotionless.  
She nodded. “He was in the stables the other day when I was out feeding the horses.”  
A look of thunder crossed his face, and he sharply pulled his hand from hers.  
“Babe, please wait, please hear what I have to say,” she pleaded. “Please let me finish. I have to tell you everything, because I cannot hold the guilt inside me anymore.”  
He stared at her in silence, and her blood ran cold.  
She should never have said anything.  
“He said he wanted to get to know me better, and had felt that we had connected back in Lake Town,” she went on. “I told him he had no business here and he risked being imprisoned if he was caught, but he said it was worth the risk.” Her heart hammered against her ribs.  
His cold eyes held hers, his face like a concrete mask.  
She breathed hard as she closed her eyes. “Yesterday when I was out with Belroch...he jumped out of the trees in front of us,” she said. Her voice was dropping. “I told him to leave, but he refused, said he would leave only if I promised him I would meet with him. He would not listen to me.”  
Her eyes opened and she willed herself to look into his.  
“He grabbed me and tried to kiss me, but I fought him off,” she said. Her words were now no more than whispers. “He became violent and that is how I ended up hitting my head on the stone.”  
Deathly silence.  
She jumped in fright as he flew to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind him.  
“You did not think to tell me this before?!” he roared. “You held this from me, knowing this man wants to sleep with you?!”  
“I did not want you to get upset,” she cried, getting to her feet. “I knew you would be angry and I did not want you to be. I thought I could deal with him myself, talk him into going back to where he belongs.”  
He fumed silently for a few moments, before whirling round at speed. He gripped the table and threw it up into the air, roaring with rage. “I asked you several times if you were keeping anything from me,” he ground out, leaning down so he was right in front of her. “You lied to my face.”  
Tears burned her eyes. “I know, and I am sorry,” she said. “I did not want what I foresaw to happen.”  
“Too late!” he shouted, making her jump back from him. “How could you openly lie to me? I am your husband!”  
She shook her head, determined to keep her tears at bay. “I could not hold it from you anymore,” she said. “I could not live with the guilt of lying to you.”  
“Yet you did it anyway!” he bellowed. His eyes were cold, hard, and furious. “That says a lot of what you think of me, when you deliberately lied to me!” He grabbed a heavy crystal vase and smashed it off the wall behind her.  
“If I could change it, I would,” she told him.  
“Do you have _any _idea what went through my mind when I saw you lying by the side of the path?” he roared. “I thought you were dead! I thought that my worst fear had come true, that you had been taken from me! When all along you had been assaulted and were hiding the truth from me!”__  
Gulping deep breaths of air, she reached over to him, but he angrily shook her off. “Thranduil-“  
“Do not speak to me!” he shouted. “Do not even look at me!”  
She flinched back as though she had been burned. “Please do not do this,” she whispered. “Thranduil, please!”  
“He dies,” he snarled. “Today.” He whirled away from her and grabbed his sword, which was resting against the wall.  
Her heart stopped as she realised it was the one she’d had made for him.  
“Thranduil, do not do this,” she cried, grabbing his arm as he stormed past her. “Thranduil, don’t!”  
“Get out of my way!” he shouted, shoving her aside.  
“No!” she screamed, and threw herself against the door. “Please...I am asking you not to do this!”  
“Like I asked you if something was wrong!” he roared. “You did not listen to me when I asked you, so now I am not listening to you!” He pulled her away from the door, and yanked it open.  
She heaved her weight against the back of it, forcing it closed again. He turned to her, fury blazing in his eyes.  
“Please Thranduil, please,” she begged, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please don’t do this, if you do nothing else for me, do not do this.”  
He gripped her arm and tried to move her from the door, but she gripped the handle and refused to let go. “Move out of the way,” he growled in a deep, dangerous tone.  
She stayed where she was, her head lowered. Sensing the heat from his body increasing, she looked up to see him so close, he was almost touching her.  
Her eyes never left his, even though she was terrified of the rage that burned in the ice blue depths.  
Seconds ticked past slowly.  
“You do not realise what you are asking of me,” he said eventually, his voice low.  
Breathing raggedly, she nodded, a gesture so slight, anyone other than he would not have noticed it. “I do,” she whispered brokenly. “But I love you and I am sorry I lied to you, and I am _begging _you to forgive me for lying. But I do not want what I saw to come true.”__  
Ice blue eyes bored into hers as the minutes crept past.  
She waited, her tears still falling, her heart still hammering hard.  
A long, deep sigh left him as he lowered his gaze, dropping the sword. It clattered to the floor, and she leaned her head back against the wood behind her. She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, trying to regain control.  
He turned away from her, walking across the room, his head lowered. “Leave me,” he said quietly.  
She gasped, fear slicing through her.  
He turned his head slightly, towards his shoulder. “I love you, but I need some time alone.”  
Her tears continued to roll silently as she left the room.


	45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE 

 

Thranduil stared out of the window, seeing nothing. Rage simmered and bubbled inside him, fury that someone had dared attack his wife. Anger that someone had trespassed onto his lands without anyone knowing, getting close enough to corner her in the stables, and again close enough to accost her.  
Hurt that she had not confided in him, told him the truth. He could have protected her, stopped the lowlife from scaring her, touching her, injuring her.  
His heart ached.  
He loved her with everything he was, everything he stood for. He had reluctantly opened up to her and fallen head over heels for her to the point where he would give his life for her without a second thought, yet she had lied to him.  
He knew something had been on her mind since their visit to Lake Town, and had asked her repeatedly, but she had continued to deny it. What he didn’t understand was why. Why had she not come to him? Told him what was troubling her, hurting her? Why had she hidden it from him?  
He closed his eyes, the ache in his heart growing stronger.  
His instinct was to hunt the man down and tear him limb from limb in the slowest, most painful manner possible. No man had the right to touch Ava, or look at her in the way he had. She belonged to him, no-one else. Nobody had any right to try and take her from him.  
Opening his eyes again, ice blue still saw nothing as he stared out of the window.  
But his heart felt everything.  
***** 

 

Ava sat curled up on the floor of the book room, a book open in front of her. But she didn’t see the words on the pages. All she could see was the anger in Thranduil’s eyes, the defeat when he told her to leave. She knew she had hurt him badly, but she’d had her reasons for not telling him the truth. His temper blasted out like a volcano sometimes, and she knew from what she had foreseen that this time it would go completely out of his control.  
She couldn’t let that happen.  
He could end up getting hurt, or worse.  
She shivered, recalling the cold ice in his eyes as he had looked at her. The lack of emotion, the emptiness. He had never looked at her like that before.  
She knew he was a complex person. Rumours had circulated middle earth for centuries about how cold and cruel he was, how stoic and unfeeling he could be. Yet she had seen a totally different side of him. A compassionate, loving, caring person who loved deeply and possessively. Someone who made her feel things she was pretty sure no other woman had ever felt, and never would.  
A single glance from him across a crowded room could bring her to her knees, melt her strongest resolve, turn her world upside down. And he knew it.  
The soft rustle of heavy fabric caught her attention, but she didn’t look up. She gazed instead at the book she held in her lap, seeming completely absorbed in it.  
Seconds passed.  
Feet silently approached her, and stopped.  
She looked up, to see Thranduil towering over her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.  
“You do not understand the language in that book,” he said quietly.  
She glanced back down at the pages, stunned to realise he was right. She didn’t. She had lifted the first book she had come across, and had picked one in a language she couldn’t read.  
He shrugged the cloak from his shoulders and knelt down, wrapping it around her, then moved to sit on the floor beside her.  
She remained quiet, waiting to see how he reacted and what her response should be.  
“There are ways of our kind that you do not yet understand,” he said after a long silence. “Ways that you should have been taught as a child, but never were. Our traditions, our habits, our flaws, our ways of life. I cannot expect you to understand my motives if you have never been schooled in them.”  
She didn’t know if he required an answer from her, and didn’t know what to say anyway, so she said nothing.  
“Our kind are different from humans. We think differently,” he said. “We view the world in a different manner. We cherish things in a different way. We fall in love fast, we fall in love deeply, and we fall in love hard.” Ice blue eyes turned to look at her. “And we love with such a passionate intensity that is ruled by jealousy and possessiveness. We cannot control that. It is the way we are.”  
She swallowed.  
He looked away. “The day I fell in love with you, I knew there would never be any going back. Even if you did not return my feelings, I knew I would never be free to love another. My heart had bonded with yours, and that bond can never be broken. Even if you had hated me and had left, and I never saw you again, I would still be bonded to you. That is the way of our kind.”  
“I have heard small bits and pieces about this since I came here,” she said.  
He turned to her again. “The rage that lies in my heart when I think of someone lusting after you knows no bounds, Ava. There is no control over it, no stopping it.” His eyes searched hers. “When I said I would die for you, I meant it with every beat of my heart.”  
Her eyes burned with unshed tears.  
He twisted his body to face hers, taking the forgotten book from her hands and tossing it aside, gripping both her hands in his. “I cannot expect you to fully understand how I think, we have been married only a short time. But I need for you to try and see things from my point of view, to view situations through my eyes. I know it is hard for you, but I cannot expect to keep you happy if I cannot explain how I feel and why I act in a certain way.”  
“You do keep me happy,” she said, her words quiet.  
He shook his head. “Do you know why I backed down and gave in?”  
She shook her head.  
“I saw the fear in your eyes,” he said. “And I do not ever want to look into your eyes and see that you fear me. I have said before, I would walk away from what we have before I let that happen.”  
“I was scared of what would happen if you went after him,” she said. “You saw what I saw, you felt what I felt.”  
“I saw that you were scared, and not just of what might happen. You were afraid of me, and that is not the way it should be,” he said.  
She took a deep breath. “I knew you would not hurt me,” she said. “But I also knew that if you left that room there would be no stopping you. I did not know where and how it would end. And I did not want anything to happen to you.” A tear finally escaped.  
He closed his eyes, touching his forehead to hers. “That is not how a marriage should be,” he whispered. “You should be able to trust me, to come to me, to tell me what lies deep in your heart, what troubles you.”  
“And I can,” she replied. “But this was different; this was something that could have ended with you being badly injured, or worse. And I did everything I could to try and prevent that.”  
He kissed her tears away, before touching his mouth against hers. “I can have anything in the world I want, simply by snapping my fingers,” he whispered. “Yet I cannot find the words to tell you how much I love you. How much you mean to me, how important you are to me. How much every beat of my heart depends on you.”  
She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. Pulling back and opening her eyes, she stared into his. “You think it is not like that for me? You think I do not worry myself to death every time you prepare for battle? That I am not terrified you are going to be taken from me? That I cannot stand to be apart from you? That you do not fill every second of my day? You have not only taken over my heart, you have taken over everything. And I would never change that for the world.”  
“I need you to trust me, _Nin mel _,” he whispered. “I would never _ever _hurt you, and I need you to know that.”____  
“I do,” she said. “I have only ever tried to protect you.”  
“As I have you, with everything that I have,” he said. “Maybe we are both so intent on the same thing that we keep falling over each other trying to achieve it.” A sad smile touched his lips.  
“I promise to tell you if anything is troubling me again,” she said, clutching fistfuls of fabric at the front of his tunic. “I promise.”  
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers again, taking a deep breath. “I love you so much it hurts,” he whispered.  
“No more hurting,” she said, angling her head to kiss him. “No more lies. No more pain.”  
*****

_____ _

 

The evening was peaceful.  
Thranduil stayed by Ava’s side, never leaving her for a second. If he had to go somewhere, he grasped her hand and took her with him. When he had to meet with his messengers and the captain of his guard, he kept her with him. When he went to get something to eat, he made sure her hand was tucked safely in his.  
They were in the throne room, Thranduil sitting on the bottom step with Ava tucked protectively between his thighs. She leaned her back against his chest, his cheek leaning on the top of her head. His arms were crossed over in front of her, her hands placed on top of his. Peace and contentment ruled.  
A knock at the door made Thranduil open his eyes. “Enter,” he said, not moving.  
The door opened and Legolas stepped into the room.  
“You have news,” his father said.  
He nodded. “We have taken the prisoner.”  
Ava stiffened in Thranduil’s arms, but he tightened his hold on her.  
“Bring him to me,” he said.  
Legolas nodded and left.  
“Maybe I should leave,” she said.  
“No. Stay here with me,” he said. “There is no reason for you to leave. I will not lay a finger on him, I promise.” His hypnotic voice soothed her nerves.  
She slid a hand from his and felt around her left side.  
“My sword will not move,” he told her softly, knowing what she was looking for.  
She smiled, putting her hand back where it had been.  
A few minutes passed, before the doors opened and the guards dragged Thomas in, hauling him to stand before them.  
Thranduil still didn’t move. “You have some explaining to do,” he said.  
Thomas glared at him. “I have nothing.”  
He lifted his head. “No, you are right. You do not.”  
“That is not what I meant,” the man snapped. “I do not owe any explanation to you. _Especially _not to you.”__  
“You trespassed onto _my _lands, you assaulted _my wife _, therefore I think you do owe an explanation,” Thranduil contradicted. “I am waiting.”____  
Thomas lowered his gaze to Ava, who held his gaze. “We connected,” he said, his tone softening.  
“Only in your dreams,” she replied. “I told you to leave. I told you that you had no business being here. I told you that I belong to another. Yet you refused to listen.”  
He inched forwards, before being restrained by the guards on either side of him. “You refused to see what we have between us,” he said.  
“You refused to see reality,” she snapped, her temper rising. “I exchanged a handful of words with you, and you think that constitutes as an affair? Not in my world, or any other world.” Her body trembled a little, and she felt Thranduil’s arms tighten ever so slightly in comfort and reassurance.  
“You assaulted my wife, you tried to take what is not yours,” he said. “That merits severe punishment.”  
Thomas snorted. “I do not fear you,” he said.  
“You should,” he replied softly, the tone of his voice making Ava’s blood run cold. She flexed her fingers on the backs of his hands, still crossed in front of her.  
“The worst you can do is kill me,” the man spat.  
“You think? No...I prefer a different approach,” he said. “I think by ending your life, you would not learn your lesson. You would not gain the experience of knowledge, of suffering.”  
Legolas lifted one eyebrow to Ava in silent question, and she nodded a fraction to let him know that so far, everything was under control. She noticed his right hand across his body resting on the handle of his sword, just in case.  
“Let me see...” Thranduil purred. “You stalked my wife, you intimidated her by sneaking up on her, you ignored the advice she gave you, you continued to pursue her against her wishes, you were violent with her...oh yes...and you ripped her clothing.”  
Thomas remained silent, glaring at him.  
“Did you like what you saw?”  
Ava could almost hear the evil smile as he spoke behind her.  
He lifted one hand and tucked a finger under the scooped neckline of her top, pulling it away from her and leaning forwards. Snapping the fabric back into place, he lifted his head again. “Perfect, aren’t they?”  
The man before them simmered in anger.  
“And they will never be yours,” Thranduil smirked. “They will always be mine.” Venom dripped from his softly spoken words. “Think that over while you rot in my dungeons for the rest of your miserable life.”  
A flick of his hand and the guards proceeded to drag him backwards towards the door, and he erupted into a volley of abuse.  
“She propositioned me!” he roared, struggling against the restraint of the guards. “She is nothing but a cheap, common whore!”  
Thranduil released his hold on her and leapt to his feet, bellowing in rage. Ava shot up, grabbing the front of his tunic in a panic.  
“No, let it go,” she pleaded. “Thranduil, listen to me, he is worth nothing. Let it go, please.”  
His nostrils flared and his eyes burned with hatred, glaring at the prisoner being dragged out of the room. His chest heaved as he breathed heavily, fighting the burning desire to tear him apart.  
She kept her hold on him, silently pleading with him to remain where he was.  
Behind her, Legolas nodded to him and left the room, closing the door. Thomas’s yells and shouts gradually faded into the distance.  
Thranduil lowered his eyes to hers, softening as they met her pleading gaze. His body slowly relaxed in her grip, the anger and tension fading. “He is the luckiest man alive,” he said.  
She sighed, a gesture of relief that his rage had passed. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, lifting it again as something occurred to her. “You were being spiteful,” she said.  
He smirked. “Yes, I was. He deserved it. He deserved to be taunted with what he will never have, never know the pleasure in having you belong to him.”  
She was unable to stop the smile tugging at her mouth. He looked so conceited, so arrogant, so self-assured. “You are evil,” she told him.  
He shrugged. “Yes.”  
Starting to laugh, she pulled him down to her for a kiss, murmering in contentment as he quickly took control, turning it from a tender touch to a blazing inferno of passion within a heartbeat. “I love you anyway, whether you are evil or not,” she said. “And I always will.”  
“Good,” he murmered against her neck as he nipped at her flesh with his sharp teeth. “Because we still have a billion stars to touch.”  
Her insides melted at his words.  
*****

_____ _

 

Legolas threw his weight onto a chair, having decided to join them for breakfast the next morning.  
“Trouble?” Thranduil asked, lifting one eyebrow at his son.  
“No, just a long night,” he replied, taking the toast Ava handed to him. “Thankyou. That monstrosity would not stop screaming and yelling the entire night down there.”  
“So remove his tongue,” Thranduil said.  
Ava gasped. “Alright, that is enough,” she said. “Throwing him in the dungeons is one thing, torturing him is another.”  
“He is torturing my guards,” he said defensively, as though that merited what he had suggested.  
She kicked him under the table. “Stop it.”  
Legolas laughed, halfway through a yawn. “I have no opinion on the matter,” he said, taking a bite of his toast. “He is someone else’s problem for today.”  
Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Ava, rubbing his shin where she had kicked him.  
“Do not act so put out,” she chided him. “You have boots on protecting your legs. I have bare feet. I hardly touched you.”  
He smirked in response.  
“I know that look,” Legolas warned. “Do not start any sexy-stuff while I am trying to eat.”  
Ava started to laugh. “We were not. Sometimes he needs to be put into place.”  
“And what place would that be, my love?” he asked, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin on the heel of his hand.  
“The place where you listen to your wife,” she retaliated. “Can you pass me the orange juice, please?”  
He rolled his eyes, complying with her request. “Maybe I should pay our prisoner a visit,” he mused. “Remind him of where he is and what the consequences will be if he does not behave.”  
“No,” she said. “Leave it alone. Let the guards do what you pay them to do.”  
“This is what happens when you fall in love and take a wife,” he said dryly to his son. “They start telling you what to do and ordering you around.”  
Another swift kick met his shin.  
Legolas burst out laughing, choking on his toast, and Ava slapped his back.  
“You two are crazy,” he laughed, wiping his eyes.  
She pointed her toast at her husband. “You and I are going to have some serious dialogue,” she threatened.  
He laughed. “You know I am only teasing you, _Nin mel _."_  
Glaring at him as she took a bite, he winked, and a pang of arousal shot between her legs. Her pupils dilated, and he grinned knowingly.  
Life was good._


	46. Chapter 46

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

 

Ava ducked under the low branch as Thranduil lifted it up out of her way for her to follow him.  
“Thankyou,” she said.  
He smiled, taking her hand back in his. They walked a little further, coming to a clearing where a waterfall tipped down over the rocks and poured into a small pool below. Flowers were starting to bloom, and butterflies floated around doing what butterflies do.  
They stopped, and he gently lifted her to sit on a fallen tree trunk, sitting on a stump at the side. He took her boots off and started massaging her feet.  
“How did you know my feet were sore?” she asked.  
He smiled. “The same way I know everything that you do not say,” he replied. Strong fingers flexed against the sole of her foot.  
She looked away.  
“I did not mean that in a bad way, _Nin mel _,” he said. “I knew deep down inside the day you were attacked that something was very wrong. I just did not listen to my instinct.”__  
“How did you know?” she asked.  
“Your top was torn,” he replied. “That would not have happened if you had fallen from a horse. The only way for it to have been ripped down the front like that would be if you had been in a struggle.”  
She shrugged.  
“And Belroch would not have left you,” he said. “He would have stayed with you. The only reason he came back without you is because he knew that maybe that bastard would return. He knew you needed me.”  
“As intuitive as his sister,” she murmered, Belan coming to mind.  
He continued to rub her foot, his movements relaxing her. “I need to allocate another horse for you,” he said. “I have been waiting for when the timing was right.”  
“There is none who could replace Belan,” she said.  
“I know. But you need another horse who will do what she did, look after you and protect you,” he told her. “I will look into it and make my choice maybe later today.” He released her foot and took the other one in his warm hands.  
She studied the movements of his hands as he massaged her. “You could have a second job,” she laughed. “You are too good at this.”  
“This is something that only a husband can do for his wife, in our kind,” he told her. “No-one else is allowed to do this.”  
She frowned. “Why not?”  
“Because it is considered an intimate act, and therefore off limits to others,” he answered.  
“Hmm,” she said. “I did not know that.”  
“There are many things you will learn through time,” he said. “Thousands of things that I cannot recall at this precise moment, but things will come to me in certain situations. Like this.”  
“I do feel I was robbed of so much,” she said. “Not just of my true family, but of what I am supposed to know, to practice.”  
“I will guide you in any way I can,” he said. “Remember the custom before a wedding, where the couple are not supposed to see each other for two days and two nights?”  
“Load of nonsense,” she snorted. “Two whole days and nights.”  
He laughed. “Neither of us were very strong in keeping in line with that,” he admitted. “The first night I sat on the edge of the bed watching you sleep, and the second night you sneaked into my bed.”  
She grinned. “I just missed you so much. I think you should abolish it, it’s ridiculous.”  
“It is not a law,” he informed her. “It is a tradition. It is different.”  
“It is madness,” she said dryly. Her gaze softened as she looked into his eyes. “I never want to be apart from you for even one night, let alone two.”  
“Nor I,” he said, lifting up from the stump and kissing her mouth. Her arms wound up around his neck as she responded, accepting the demanding probing of his tongue.  
“If only the weather was a little warmer,” she murmered, as he placed little butterfly kisses on her cheek.  
“We can always continue this when we get home,” he replied in a whisper. “Warm and comfortable in our own bed...relaxed...taking our time exploring each other...” His velvet voice made her heartbeat accelerate further.  
She pushed at his shoulders. “I think we should head home,” she told him, her sparkling eyes meeting his.  
*****

____

 

Ava paused, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.  
Thranduil, damn him, had not broken a sweat, He smirked cockily at her, swinging his sword in front of him.  
“Do you need to rest?” he enquired. The arrogance flowed off him in waves.  
“Do I hell,” she retorted. “I am just warming up.” She sucked in a deep breath, changing her stance. She kept her eyes on him as he slowly circled her, his eyes holding her prisoner in a predator-like gaze. Turning in slow circles, she kept him in her line of vision, trying to read what was going on in his mind.  
And failing.  
He lashed out with his sword, and she only just managed to swing hers up in time to deflect the blow, the steel clashing and screeching in protest. Swinging hard to her left, she forced his weapon downwards, but he counteracted her move with a forward thrust, the tip of his blade stopping just as the sharp point touched the skin on her neck.  
“Too slow,” he said softly.  
She threw her weapon on the ground, irritated. “You were distracting me.”  
He threw his head back and roared with laughter, making the guards over on the other side of the courtyard turn to see what was going on.  
She scowled at them, and they hurriedly turned away.  
“I was not distracting you,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her. “You were distracting yourself.”  
“I was not,” she spat.  
He chuckled, stooping to retrieve her sword from the ground. “You are a bad loser, _Nin mel _,” he told her.__  
“Do not even attempt to sweet-talk me,” she huffed.  
He walked towards her, a slight swagger in his stride. “Oh I could,” he murmered, gazing down at her. “And you know I could.”  
Her mouth went dry and her insides clenched in anticipation, her eyes dropping to his full mouth.  
“My Lord, Lord Aimon has arrived,” one of the guards announced, appearing at his back.  
“Tell him I will be with him in a few moments,” Thranduil replied, not taking his eyes off Ava. She was mesmerised looking at his mouth. As quick as a flash, he swooped down and claimed hers, his lips moving sensually against hers and demanding entrance. She moaned softly against him as she complied, greedily accepting his tongue as he swept it around inside.  
Dragging his mouth from hers, he ran a fingertip down her cheek. “Until later,” he promised in a husky whisper.  
She swallowed, her body thrown into a state of full arousal by his kiss.  
He grinned, taking her hand in his. “We should greet our guest,” he said, leading her back to the palace. “It would not be very hospitable if we left him to entertain himself while we disappeared somewhere private to entertain each other.”  
She smiled. “Stop teasing,” she said. “I quite like the sound of that, instead of pandering to someone I do not particularly have time or patience for.”  
“I am inclined to agree,” he said as he held the door open and ushered her inside before him. “I only agreed to this as a gesture of goodwill because he signed the peace treaty. Otherwise I would have even considered it.”  
“It could be worse,” she said, walking down the corridor at his side. “It could have been the other one who wanted to visit.”  
Thranduil’s eyes went wide as he glanced down at her. “Not if I have anything to do with it,” he muttered. “Never in a thousand centuries.”  
His fingers tightened around hers as they entered one of the large halls, hers flexing back in silent response.  
“King Thranduil...Queen Ava,” their guest said with a smile, rising to his feet and extending his hand.  
“Lord Aimon,” Thranduil returned the greeting. Ava took the hand that had been extended and the other elf placed a kiss on the back of it, releasing her to shake hands with Thranduil. “Pleasant journey, I presume?”  
“Yes,” Aimon replied. “Thank goodness. I must thank you for the escort through the Mirkland Wood; the guards made the journey more relaxing.”  
Thranduil smiled. “I always make sure any guests arriving are safely escorted both ways,” he said.  
Ava picked up a slight barb to his tone, and knew he was referring to the journey she had made, when Aimon had neglected to provide her with an escort. She flexed her fingers again.  
“Well I am very grateful,” Aimon repeated. “The woods seem to be a dangerous area to travel through.”  
“They are,” he replied. “There are always orcs and giant spiders infringing our borders, despite our efforts to keep them at bay.”  
“A full-time occupation, I am sure,” the other elf observed. “We are lucky we do not face such dangers where we are.”  
“Every kingdom faces their own trials and tribulations,” Thranduil said. “Shall we eat?”  
Ava nodded in agreement. “I am really hungry,” she said. “If you will excuse us?” she added to Aimon. “We need to freshen up first.”  
“Of course,” the elf replied. “I shall continue admiring the beauty of the palace in the meantime.” He offered a pleasant smile.  
She returned his smile, leading her husband out of the hall they occupied.  
“I think I will need every ounce of self-control to get through this, this evening,” Thranduil muttered as they made their way towards their quarters.  
“You will be fine,” she assured him. “Just think peaceful thoughts.”  
“Peaceful thoughts are not what I am thinking just now,” he growled, hurrying her inside their room and slamming the door closed. His mouth met hers in hunger, his tongue demanding entry that would not be denied. Large hands roamed restlessly up and down her body, tearing her top from her as lust sheered through his system.  
She started to laugh against his mouth. “I cannot believe you are going to do this!” she giggled, arching into his touch as she worked his tunic from him.  
“And why not? You are my wife, and I desire you,” he whispered against her neck. “I long to be buried deep inside you...”  
Flames of passion flared through her, and they soon ended up tangled on the bed in a heap of entwined limbs and thrusting hips. Their mating was quick, hungry, and passionate.  
“We should get changed,” she gasped afterwards, her hands trailing through his long hair.  
“Mmmm,” he murmered lazily. “I do not suppose it would be polite if I sent Legolas to keep him company.”  
She burst out laughing, shoving him aside and sliding to the edge of the bed. “No, it would be improper,” she told him. “Come on. Let’s get this over and done with.”  
He muttered and cursed in Sindarin as he reluctantly dragged his body from the comfort of the bed, pouting and complaining as he dressed himself. She smiled to herself at his child-like grumblings, slipping into a turquoise coloured dress which fell to the floor. Brushing her hair back into some sort of order, she caught his eye in the mirror.  
“Beautiful,” he murmered, lifting her hair to kiss her neck. “Absolutely beautiful.”  
“I might return the compliment,” she said, turning to face him. He stood tall before her, dressed in black leggings and a long tunic of silver-grey with flecks of blue through it, looking every inch the strong ruler he was.  
Ice blue eyes held hers, and he smiled. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked, holding his hand out.  
She took his hand, and together they headed through to join their guest.  
*****

____

 

“I must say, your kitchen staff work absolute wonders,” Aimon commented, sighing in contentment as he pushed his empty plate away from him a little. “I do not think I have enjoyed such a meal in many a year.”  
Ava smiled. “The cook is outstanding...we would be lost without him,” she replied. “I am sure he works magic down there.”  
“From what I have just eaten, I would be inclined to agree,” he said. “That was exquisite.”  
“How are things between yourselves and your neighbours?” Thranduil asked as he speared a roast potato with his fork.  
“Very peaceful,” Aimon said. “For which I will be forever in your lovely wife’s debt.”  
“Not at all,” she said. “Sometimes things just need a fresh face, a different perspective. I am just happy we could come to an amicable agreement.”  
“As am I,” her husband said.  
“I should apologise for Druindar’s behaviour, however,” Aimon said, meeting Ava’s eyes.  
She shrugged. “I did not pay much attention,” she told him. “Although he is lucky I travelled with Mithrandir and not my husband.”  
“Very lucky,” Thranduil said. His eyes flashed fire.  
“Unfortunately, Druindar seems to think of himself as a ladies’ man,” Aimon said. “It can be quite unsettling at times, if not inappropriate.”  
“It was harmless,” she said, settling a hand discreetly on Thranduil’s thigh below the table to settle him. The muscles there tensed under her touch, conveying his anger at the thought of the elf lusting after her. “He is well aware of the boundaries, and did not attempt to cross them.”  
Diamond chose that moment to leap onto the table, smelling the uneaten food left there. Ava jumped up and grabbed him, tucking him against her chest.  
“You are not allowed in here, you little imp,” she scolded him gently.  
Thranduil rolled his eyes. “That cat has you wrapped around his paw,” he observed, humour in his tone.  
“Of course he does,” she said, stepping around him. “He is so cute and sweet and adorable...aren’t you, my little fluffball?” She lifted the cat to her face, kissing the soft fur. “I shall take him out before he destroys the place.”  
Thranduil watched her leave, a smile curving his lips.  
“There is word on movement of the trolls,” Aimon said softly.  
His head whipped round. “What?”  
The elf nodded. “I have heard whispers over the last few days,” he said. “They are advancing on the western province.”  
Thranduil’s heart missed a beat. “They are coming for her,” he murmered, almost to himself.  
“Yes,” Aimon said. “This is why I did not wish to delay my visit until the next new moon. I feared it would be too late.”  
Thranduil raised worried eyes to those of his guest.  
“I offer you the help of the armies from both my lands and those of Druindar’s,” Aimon said.  
His eyes widened in surprise.  
Aimon nodded. “You have our support, King Thranduil. The Queen must be protected from the evil at all costs, even if it means the entire elf communities coming together as one. You do not stand alone in this.”  
Thranduil swallowed, shocked at what his guest had offered. “Then I thank you for your help,” he said, his voice low. “The trolls pose a great danger to Ava. And to the future of middle earth.”  
Aimon nodded, taking a sip from his wine. “I know, and therefore I understand the need to keep her safe. We stand with you...but we must prepare.”  
Thranduil’s mind worked quickly. “I will assemble the captain of my guard and the captains of the armies at dawn,” he said. “This is not something I will lie down to.”  
“Certainly not,” Aimon agreed. “With three combined elvish forces, they will not succeed in their mission.”  
“You know of the prophecy?” the King asked.  
“Of course,” the reply came. “Every being in the world knows of it. And we will all come together to ensure the trolls do not carry out their evil plan. Be assured my friend, victory is ours.”


	47. Chapter 47

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

 

Ava sighed in pleasure, as Thranduil slowly thrust into her, his movements slow and steady. Her feet crossed at his back, urging him closer even though he was already pressed tight against her. Soft sounds of murmers and kisses filled the air, soft moans and gasps of need.  
He gazed down into her eyes, the feeling of love burning his soul. He continued the slow rhythm, drawing out the intense pleasure as long as he could.  
Her mouth tilted up to meet his, her soft lips coaxing his open and making him groan with desire.  
“I need to come,” she murmered into him.  
He smiled into the kiss, deepening his thrusts but keeping the same pace. She whimpered, her body responding. He bent one knee to alter his angle, tipping her into an abyss of white-hot pleasure, before emptying his soul into her and collapsing on top of her.  
“Aimon brought you bad news,” she murmered, half asleep some time later.  
He lifted his head, his eyebrows drawn into a frown. “What makes you think that, my love?”  
She smiled. “Tonight was different,” she said. “Slow, tender, almost sad...I know when you have something on your mind.”  
He sighed, slowly slipping out of her. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he turned his back to her as he sat on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor. His head hung low, his shoulders dropped.  
She shifted behind him, sitting on her knees with her thighs on either side of his waist. “Talk to me,” she whispered.  
He shook his head, his arms tensing as his fists rested on the bed.  
Soft hands slowly trailed down his shoulders to his back, sliding around his waist and locking across his stomach.  
Several minutes passed.  
“We are facing an attack,” he finally said.  
“The trolls,” she said quietly.  
He nodded, tension creeping along the muscles of his shoulders. “Yes.”  
She leaned her cheek against the warm skin of his shoulder, closing her eyes and inhaling his unique scent. “Then we will face it as we have done every other confrontation,” she said.  
He shook his head again. “This is different, _Nin mel _,” he said.”This could be the end of everything.”__  
“I have had no foresight,” she said. “Perhaps that means that the future is set and we cannot change the outcome.”  
He turned to face her, anguish in his eyes. “I cannot lose you,” he whispered.  
“You will not lose me,” she told him. “I am sure of this.”  
Tears filled his eyes. “I am afraid,” he whispered. “So afraid.”  
She touched his face with her left hand. “You have nothing to fear,” she whispered. “I will always be with you.”  
His tears dripped down his cheek as he closed his eyes, and her heart ached for the pain he was feeling. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him into a tight embrace, hoping to bring solace and peace to a strong King who was almost on his knees with fear.  
*****

____

 

By mid-afternoon the following day, Thranduil had regained his purpose.  
To the untrained eye.  
Inside, he was shaking with fear, anxious beyond what he was willing to admit even to himself. Ava could see his soul though, and she knew.  
He had met with his captains and Legolas, issuing orders and instructions and organising the upcoming war they faced. Legolas didn’t seem surprised at the pending attack, and had commented it was just a matter of time before the trolls made a move to claim Ava.  
The captains were driven by determination, each one departing to prepare their companies and talk them through what would be demanded, rather than expected of them.  
Soldiers moved swiftly, driven in their mission and moving in unity.  
Legolas found Thranduil and Ava in discussion with Aimon, who had dispatched a messenger to assemble his armies and those of Druindar.  
“There is something I think you should see,” he stated, holding the door to the throne room open.  
Thranduil glanced questioningly at him as he passed, holding Ava’s hand in his, but his son said nothing more. They hurried down to the main doors, coming to a sudden halt.  
Thranduil’s mouth opened in shock.  
The entire male population of Lake Town stood before them, led by Bard.  
“You really think we would let you face this alone, after what you have done for us?” Bard quipped, with one lifted eyebrow. “No way are you going to get into a fight without us.” He stepped forwards, embracing the shocked King in a tight but brief hug.  
“I cannot ask you to do this,” Thranduil said. “I cannot guarantee your safety.”  
“You never can in battle,” he replied, embracing Ava. “Nevertheless, we are here, and we will be fighting alongside you. As will Dain and the dwarves; I have sent word to them.”  
Thranduil swallowed, visibly moved. Ava tightened her hold on his hand, smiling as he glanced down at her.  
“Who said true friends do not exist?” she said.  
“Right,” Bard announced, turning to his crowd. “Let us get settled for the night...find yourselves somewhere sheltered. I suggest the accommodation that was built not long past. Get some sleep, rest well, and we will gather at dawn.”  
His men murmered in agreement and filtered away in groups.  
Bard turned to Thranduil, and nodded. “United in battle,” he said.  
He was lost for words.  
Ava smiled. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat,” she said, breaking the mood. “Have your men eaten?”  
“Yes, and they have supplies with them,” Bard replied, following her inside as she pulled her husband along with her. “How are you, Aimon?”  
“I am well, and you?” the elf asked, as the pair fell behind the royal couple and went into discussion.  
*****

 

“I have one thing to ask you,” Ava said much later that night.  
She was sitting across Thranduil’s legs, snuggled against his chest listening to the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat.  
“Anything,” he replied, his deep velvet voice soothing her soul.  
She lifted her head and shifted slightly, gazing deep into his beautiful eyes. Taking a deep breath, she spoke. “If we are faced with the prospect of defeat, and the trolls are taking me away, then I ask only one thing.”  
His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, disturbed at the scenario she described.  
“Do not let them take me alive.”  
Shock flashed across his features. “I do not understand,” he said.  
She shook her head. “I cannot spend the rest of my life being raped and violated for the offspring I would produce,” she said. “And we both know that is what they want me for. Do not let them take me alive.”  
His eyebrows came down in a confused frown. “I do not underst-“ He trailed off, horror reflecting in his eyes as he realised what she was asking of him. “No, no, do not ask me that,” he gasped.  
“I must,” she said softly. “If there is no other alternative, do not let them win. Do not let me live a horrific existence, Thranduil. Do not put me through that. End my life so the horror stops there. I will be at peace, as will the future of middle earth.”  
Tears fell from his eyes as he shook his head. “I cannot do that,” he whispered. “I cannot.”  
She gazed at him sadly. “Then I would have to take my own life, and we would be parted forever through eternity,” she said. “You know as well as I do that if an elf takes their own life, their soul is destroyed forever. I would never be able to connect with you from beyond, I would never be able to be at your side.”  
He inhaled a shuddered breath, turning his head from her. “I could not take your life,” he said.  
She turned him back to her with one gentle fingertip. “What is worse?”  
Heartbroken eyes gazed at her through his tears.  
“It may not come to that,” she told him, her tone soft. “I am just saying in the worst possible light, if it were to go that way. The fact I have not seen anything concerning this makes me think that everything will turn out for the best, but I just want to be sure that the future will not be filled with darkness.”  
He tightened his arms around her, crushing her to his chest as he took deep, heaving breaths. “I cannot believe this is happening,” he cried into her hair.  
She caressed the back of his head. “We both knew it would one day,” she told him. “We just did not know when.”  
“They are not going to take you from me,” he vowed, anger evident in his words. “They will _never _take you.”__  
“I do not intend to let them,” she said.  
*****

____

 

Hundreds of thousands of allies covered the lands as far as they eye could see. Ava sat astride her horse, casting her gaze around slowly.  
Beside her, Thranduil sat on his mount, watching her.  
“I really do wish you had stayed at the palace,” he said quietly.  
She turned to look at him, a smile on her lips. “Not a chance,” she replied.”This ends. Here, now.”  
He blinked as he looked away, taking a deep breath, Belroch trampling restlessly under him.  
The resounding echo of a war horn ripped through the air.  
Ava’s adrenalin rocketed.  
Over the horizon, a dark cloud flowed over the hills, advancing towards them. Hundreds of thousands of trolls, accompanied by orcs. War machines, giant orcs with riders on their shoulders. Howling, ferocious wolf-like animals carrying hunters.  
“Wargs,” she muttered.  
Thranduil let out a roar and charged forwards, his armies flowing around him as they surged forward in attack.  
Ava hung back for a few moments, assessing everything.  
The two sides met with an unholy clash and screech of metal, screams and roars deafening her. Huge boulders flew from catapults and crashed down, obliterating friend and foe alike. The front line fell in waves.  
Thranduil spun round to look at her, horror in his eyes.  
Instantly, she was somewhere else.  
She could see her husband, bent over, his long hair falling over his shoulders and obscuring his face. He slowly straightened, and turned towards her.  
A newborn baby was cradled protectively in his arms, and as she watched, he lowered his head and placed a tender kiss on the infant’s forehead.  
His lips moved as he spoke to the child, but she could not hear what he said. His face lit up in a loving, peaceful smile as he gazed at the baby in his arms.  
Thranduil charged towards her, knowing she was seeing something. By the time he reached her, she had a faint smile on her face.  
“Let’s do this,” she told him, kicking her horse forwards.  
He stared after her, astonished. What had she seen?  
*****

 

The battle went on for hours. Hoards fell on both sides, the death toll climbing higher as every second passed. The stench of blood filled the air, and pools of it covered the ground they battled on.  
Ava fought tirelessly, never straying far from Thranduil’s side, slaying everything that came within her sword’s reach. Likewise, he fought with endless energy and drive, taking down whatever was foolish enough to stray into the path of his blades.  
Ava glanced round at one point to see an arrow land in his upper thigh, knocking him off his feet. She screamed, turning her horse towards him and galloping over.  
Crashing off the animal, she rushed to him, struggling to roll him onto his back.  
“Look at me,” she urged, pressing tightly to the bleeding wound.  
He roared in pain, his body arching as the agony tore through him.  
Something made her look up, and her mouth opened in silent horror.  
A giant troll was standing behind Thranduil’s head, an evil smirk on his face.  
_Malak _.__  
The troll who planned to breed his hideous race from her and gain her power.  
Her vision seemed to slow down as he lifted his sword, the evil grin widening. She threw her body across Thranduil, screaming in denial.  
The sword fell.  
Her world rolled to one side as Thranduil pushed her, swinging his right arm up and stabbing his sword through the throat of the troll who hovered above them. A howl of pain sounded at his movement, the action too much for his injured body. He collapsed back onto the ground panting heavily, as a cloud of arrows found their target and sank into the stunned troll.  
Malak fell to his knees, his sword dropping to the blood-soaked grass, then toppled over.  
Ava lifted herself back over Thranduil, tears running down her face. He was pale, a slight grey hue to his skin.  
“You do not die on me,” she pleaded. “Thranduil, do not die. Do not leave me in this world by myself.”  
Ice blue eyes slowly opened, glazed and out of focus.  
“Somebody help!” she roared, choking on her sobs.  
Legolas, Bard, and several others were at their side in seconds. Her step-son peeled her from his father, allowing the others to move him. Blood flowed from his thigh, soaking everything.  
She went weak in Legolas’s arms, her anguish driving all the fight from her.  
“Sssh, he will be alright,” he said, cradling her head. “The healers will tend to him. Do not worry.”  
She lifted her head from his shoulder, surveying the carnage that was still going on around them.  
“Leave it,” he advised her gently but firmly. “We are well on our way to winning. They are outnumbered three to one now, it is almost over.”  
She gasped in gulps of air, tears still flowing freely.  
“Ava, stay with me,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “Let us go be with my father.”  
Hours later, Ava sat at Thranduil’s side with his hand clasped in both of hers, her head resting on his stomach. He was unconscious, the healers having removed the arrow and stemmed the bleeding. They were concerned that he had lost a lot of blood, but were hopeful for his recovery.  
The battle was over. No troll or orc had been left alive, no warg had left the battlefield. Their own armies had huge losses, but most were still alive, whether out on the field or being tended to by the healers.  
She should have felt a sense of victory, but didn’t. All she could think about was the man who lay beneath her, silently breathing but not responding.  
Silent tears trickled down her cheeks, soaking through his tunic. His armour and swords were discarded to one side, and she gazed sadly at them.  
Would he ever wear them again?  
Her eyes closed in grief, inwardly begging her husband to pull through.  
A warm, gentle hand touched her face.  
Gasping, she looked up.  
Thranduil’s eyes were open, but he looked ill.  
She smiled through her tears. “How are you feeling?”  
“Sore,” he said. “I heard you on the battlefield, my love.” His eyes closed again as exhaustion took over.  
She sniffed, leaning up to press her mouth gently against his. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “And I need you.”  
A faint smile ghosted around his mouth, but vanished again as he slipped back into unconsciousness.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after 48 long chapters and many hours of writing, creating, and altering things, Thranduil and Ava's journey is over. Thankyou to all of you who have stuck with me and read through to the end, and I can only hope that you have enjoyed their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. A tiny idea many months ago took root and grew into Fire And Ice, and I've loved every second. Thranduil is very special to me, and fuels many fantasies of stories I would like to work on in the future, as well as giving me inspiration for what I am working on at the moment.  
> Thankyou to all who have left comments and kudos, and I hope you can enjoy my other stories too xx

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

 

Thranduil improved over the next two days and returned to the palace with Ava at his side. His own armies returned with them, and the others went back to their homelands, content that they had defeated the enemy and that peace would rule for a while longer.  
Although weak, Thranduil wanted to resume his normal duties but was told under no circumstances, by both his wife and the nurse who took care of him. Confined to bed, he became irritable and grouchy, particularly as Ava was constantly appearing and disappearing as she took over his role.  
“Go fetch my wife,” he snapped at one of the guards.  
“My Lord, she is-“  
“I do not care,” he interrupted. “I want to see her now.”  
The guard nodded and scampered from the room in search of the Queen.  
Thranduil waited impatiently for her.  
Eventually the door to the bedroom opened. “Are you being a menace?” she asked, laughter in her tone.  
“No,” he said sullenly. “I do not wish to stay here in bed.”  
“Aw,” she murmered in mock sympathy, sitting on the side of the bed next to him. “Are you bored?”  
He glared at her, and she burst out laughing.  
“It is not funny,” he barked, making her laugh more.  
“No, it is,” she replied, wiping tears of laughter away. “You need to relax and let everyone else run around after you, and stop being so obstinate.”  
Ice blue eyes glared at her from under a heavy frown. Instantly, the frown disappeared. “I assume the trolls are gone,” he said, taking her hand in his.  
“On the battlefield,” she answered, her demeanour becoming serious. “I had wondered once or twice if we would succeed, but I saw something.”  
“I know,” he said. “What did you see?”  
She smiled. “A beautiful vision,” she told him. “One of you holding your newborn, giving him or her a kiss and talking. It was so beautiful.”  
He closed his eyes, lifting her hand to press his lips against it. “You should never have been fighting,” he said softly. “You should have turned back.”  
She shook her head. “I knew that I would make it,” she said. “But when you were taken down I wondered if I’d had the chance to prevent that and had missed it.”  
“It was merely a clever strike that I was careless enough not to see coming,” he said. “And you...” he paused, staring at her. “You put yourself in danger by trying to shield me. You should not have done that, knowing you will at some point be carrying my child.”  
She met his gaze, not flinching. “With the child, goes the husband,” she said after a moment’s silence.  
“I do not understand,” he said with a frown.  
“My vision...it was you and the child,” she said. “For one to survive, both had to survive.”  
He took a deep breath, studying her hand cradled in between both of his. “There will be no more battles for you,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers. “And I will have no discussion on the matter. For once in your stubborn, obnoxious existence, you _will _listen to me and heed what I am saying. As your husband more than your King, I want you to be safe. No more fighting, no battles, no wars.”__  
“I can live with that,” she murmered softly.  
His eyebrows lifted in surprise.  
“Do not act so shocked,” she said. “The thought of a child is as important to me as you are, so of course I would protect him or her.”  
He swallowed, emotion washing over him in waves. Tugging her down for his kiss, he stopped when she was a hair’s breadth from him. “You do know I love you with all my heart and soul,” he whispered.  
“Almost as much as I love you,” she whispered back, touching her mouth to his.  
*****

____

 

The air in Mirkwood was relaxed and settled, the threat of the trolls finally having been diminished from everyone’s minds. Thranduil went from strength to strength, resuming his duties earlier than his wife and his nurse had advised, irritated at being stuck in bed all day.  
Ava had smiled often. He had come across as a petulant child, throwing tantrums because he couldn’t get his own way. Used to being in a position of power and authority, he was irked at being told what to do.  
One of those smiles graced her lips as she folded his clean robes and tucked them away.  
She gasped as strong arms wrapped around her, tugging her back against a warm, solid chest.  
“What are you smiling at?” his deep voice asked, his warm breath fluttering past her ear.  
Her smile widened to a grin as she turned in his arms. “Nothing, my love,” she replied, linking her hands behind his neck. “Just how you can throw tantrums when you do not get your own way.”  
He smirked, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “You know I hate doing nothing,” he defended himself. “I get bored so easily. And there was nothing to distract me.”  
“I kept you company as much as I could,” she said with a put-on pout. Her hands wandered down his chest and his sides coming to rest on his strong thighs. “How is your wound?”  
“Completely healed,” he replied. “Only a small scar left there. A little reminder.”  
“One for me to fuss over later,” she said, a sparkle in her eye.  
“You do not have to wait until later,” he murmered, lowering his head for a kiss. He rolled his head and looked at the roof as someone pounded on the closed door. “Give me strength,” he muttered. “Enter!”  
Ava smiled as a flustered guard announced that the King’s presence was required, before hurriedly backing out of the room. She slowly caressed gentle circles on his thighs, inhaling deeply through her nose. “Go do your King things,” she murmered, and stood up on her toes to kiss his full mouth.  
“I would much prefer to do things to my Queen,” he murmered, chasing her mouth as she pulled away and kissing her once more.  
He laughed as she pushed against his chest, sending him back a step or two.  
“Go!” she ordered him. “I have work to do here.”  
“That is maids’ work,” he said, turning for the door.  
She drank in the sight of him; tall and proud, his long hair swishing down his back as he moved. “Fine,” she retorted. “I shall expect payment later.”  
He threw a grin at her over his shoulder. “And I will pay it,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.  
She laughed to herself, resuming her task.  
*****

 

One year later.  
Ava’s vision came true, and she fell pregnant shortly after the final battle with the trolls. Thranduil fussed over her like a protective mother hen, wouldn’t let her lift a finger, and generally drove her insane. She longed to do things for herself, but under no circumstances would he allow it, with no amount of begging, pleading or temper tantrums making any difference.  
The day she started feeling twinges, she was sitting on a stool leaning over a table, her head resting on her arms, as he massaged her back.  
“Thranduil,” she murmered, half-asleep with the relaxing touch of his gentle hands.  
“Yes, _Nin mel _?” he said behind her.__  
“Baby’s coming,” she told him.  
His hands stopped. “Right now?”  
She smiled. “No. I’ve just started labour pains. It’ll be a long time yet.”  
He sat himself beside her, studying her. She opened her eyes and gazed back at him.  
“What can I do?”  
“Nothing, for the time being,” she replied. “Damn...I’m so tired and relaxed, I just want to sleep.”  
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Do you think you could?”  
She shrugged. “Probably not,” she said. “I shall be alright for a few hours yet, if you want to go and do your King things. I will send for you when I need you. I assume..?”  
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “I do not care for custom and what is normally done. I helped create this child, I wish to present when he or she is brought into the world.”  
A loving smiled curved her mouth. “You may not say that by the end of the day,” she murmered, her eyes closing again. “I have heard that even the most docile women turn into demons when giving birth.”  
“I think I shall cope,” he said, giving her a quick kiss. “I shall do what I have to quickly, then I will be back at your side. Send for me if you need me sooner, my love.”  
“Take your time,” she said. “Can you send Nardual to me?”  
“Of course,” he replied, rising to his feet. “He will be with you shortly.” He left, and true to his word, the servant she had requested was at her side within minutes.  
Hours passed, and Ava took to pacing the floor as her contractions came closer and with more intensity. Nardual paced with her, and they must have walked the length and breadth of the palace a hundred times before she felt the time was fast approaching.  
Nardual accompanied her to her chambers, and she sent him off in search of her husband. By the time he was located and arrived, she was swearing and in a foul mood.  
“Relax and breathe deeply, _Nin mel _,” he advised, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed.__  
The look she gave him could have stopped a stampeding army of orcs in their tracks. “This is agony,” she spat, with a snarl that would rival a warg’s. “Whoever said this is natural and normal must have been out of their damned mind.”  
“It will be worth it, I promise,” he said, rubbing her back. “Turn around so I can do this properly.”  
She huffed in exasperation and turned so that her back was facing him. Again he massaged her back, working on her thoracic and lumbar regions. She gritted her teeth and growled like an animal as she rode out another contraction, her hands balling into fists on the bedcovers, her head down.  
His hands moved up to her shoulders, trying to work out the tension. He walked the floor with her, held her hand, wiped her face with a cool damp cloth, comforted her when she was roaring in pain, and stayed tactfully quiet as she cursed and swore at him.  
By the time the healer arrived to attend, he was standing at the side of the bed and she was up on her knees with her arms around his neck, howling her way through back-to-back contractions.  
“Almost time to push,” the healer told her, bending down and having a quick check on how things were progressing.  
“I want to push now!” Ava yelled.  
“Not yet, my love,” Thranduil said, both hands rubbing her back and sides. “Try and wait until the time is right.”  
She panted in exertion, resting her head on his chest. Her hands fisted in the back of his cloak as another wave of pain hit her, and she yelled with everything she had.  
“Almost time,” the healer announced cheerfully, but her face changed when Ava let rip with a torrent of abuse that would make the dwarves blush.  
Thranduil shrugged apologetically, maintaining his gentle massage. Her body tightened rapidly as her muscles worked hard to deliver the child, and he could feel the tension in his hands.  
The healer checked again after a few minutes of screaming and swearing. “Right m’lady, I think we are good to bring this little one out,” she said, having been busy preparing hot water and setting plenty of towels on the bed. “Push on the next contraction.”  
“Next one?” she roared. “It’s just one big long one now! There isn’t any room between them anymore!” She clung to Thranduil, panting as she struggled to get through the agony that was tearing her body apart.  
He whispered soft words in her ear, encouraging her and reassuring her that he was with her. She sobbed as the pain became too much, and her energy levels dropped fast.  
“I can’t do this,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “I cannot do this Thranduil, this is going to kill me!”  
“It will not, I promise,” he whispered, wiping her tears away. “Focus on my voice, breathe as I breathe, and look at me.”  
She lifted teary eyes to his, exhaustion evident in her gaze.  
“I will get you through this,” he said softly. “Believe in me.”  
“I do,” she said through gritted teeth as the pain level rose again.  
“Breathe in, breathe out,” he told her. “Do not look down, my love. Look at me.”  
His instructions seemed almost impossible, as he instinct was to tuck her head down and push with everything she was worth.  
“We are getting there,” the healer said from her position on the bed behind Ava. “Not long to go, my Lord, m’lady.”  
“This is happening,” Ava said softly, her body tightening. “Stay with me babe, please stay with me.”  
“I am with you,” he said, holding her gaze. “Push when you feel the urge.”  
She breathed deeply, taking strength from the love she could see in his ice blue eyes, and pushed. Hard.  
“Again,” the healer told her. “Push harder.”  
Dropping her forehead onto his shoulder, she took a few seconds to breathe before pushing again. Her screams echoed throughout the nearby hallways, guards stopping in their tracks then realising their Queen was giving birth.  
“Very good, _Nin mel _,” Thranduil encouraged her. “We are almost there. Keep going, my love.”__  
“Push!” the healer exclaimed, excitement in her voice. “Push, m’lady! Push!”  
Ava’s grip around Thranduil’s neck tightened as she threw her head back and roared from the bottom of her soul, only stopping when she ran out of air.  
The shrill cry of a newborn met her ears.  
The final dregs of strength left her and she collapsed against Thranduil. He took her weight as his eyes welled, his gaze on his newborn son.  
“You did it, my love,” he whispered. A satisfied nod from the healer assured him his child was well, so he concentrated on his wife while the healer tended to the newborn.  
Pressing soft kisses along her cheeks, he whispered soft words in Sindarin, his hands framing her face. He kissed her tears away, kissed her pain away, and finally kissed the mouth of the mother of his child. Without breaking the contact of his lips against hers, he slowly turned her and lowered her onto the bed, kneeling beside her and stretching out so she partially rolled towards him. He lifted a blanket and pulled it over them, leaving room so the healer could deliver the afterbirth and tend to her.  
He pulled back, a tender smile on his face. “We have a son,” he said. “We have a beautiful, perfect son.”  
She smiled, a mammoth effort as fatigue seemed to drain the life from her.  
Adjusting the pillow behind her, he eased his shoulder behind hers and lifted her arms, so they were supported on his, and the healer placed their son into their arms.  
Ava’s mouth turned to an ‘O’ shape as she gazed down at the tiny bundle who peeked out from the towel, having fallen quiet. Thranduil rested his chin on her shoulder, smiling as he looked from son to mother, and back again.  
“He is perfect,” he whispered. “Just like his mother.”  
She couldn’t speak, as she was overwhelmed with how tiny the little bundle was, and how much he already resembled his father. “Hi, little man,” she whispered eventually.  
Thranduil’s smile widened.  
Ava looked into his eyes. “We did this,” she said softly. “We created this amazing little person. You and me.”  
He nodded. “We did.”  
Tears of happiness spilled down her cheeks, and he kissed them away from the side of her nearest to him as his arms were supporting hers as they held their baby.  
*****

_____ _

____

 

Ava rolled over, opening her eyes and blinking against the burning sensation as she had only been asleep for a short while. The room was semi-dark, the only light coming from candles. She propped herself up on one elbow.  
Thranduil had his back to her, standing over at the ledge that overlooked the forest. He turned, whispering softly to the child sleeping in his arms. With such care and love, he placed a tender kiss on his son’s head, a smile curving his full mouth.  
Satisfied, Ava lay back down again, not wanting to intrude on the tender moment.  
Her vision had come true.


End file.
